


Stray Hero

by sleepydragon03



Series: Stray Hero [1]
Category: Megamind (2010), ノラガミ | Noragami
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, im not kidding about the graphic depictions of violence, this is not the lighthearted happy fun time the movie megamind is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-05 04:01:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 60,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14608854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepydragon03/pseuds/sleepydragon03
Summary: Metro City’s worst nightmare is realized when The God of Calamity finally defeats his childhood nemesis, Metro Woman. However, his new reign isn’t all he imagined it to be, in addition to a new sense of purposelessness he has to deal with the very capable Iki Hiyori, who is hellbent on taking him down and uncovering his dark past. Not to mention the mysterious God of Chaos who emerges onto the scene as an accidental creation of Yato’s own hand, hellbent on killing those Yato loves in an attempt to “heal” the softness they have bred in him. Meanwhile he has too cope with living two lives, one as the new Evil Overlord with an adopted son, and another as Manabu: the man helping Hiyori try to take the God of Calamity down. Rated M for graphic depictions of violence.





	1. Happiness Will Come to You When You Least Expect it, But Probably Late March

**Author's Note:**

> Well here it is folks, my first ever post on ao3, hope you guys like it!

“You know what, Warden? I think I’m rehabilitated. Really, the prison system has done its job and I’m ready to rejoin society as a healthy and productive non-super villain.” He smiled disturbingly at the man glaring at him through the small round window. He reclined in his chair as if it were a throne, and his cell a reception hall.

“Not a chance, Megamind,” Yato scowled at the name. He  _ hated  _ it, but of course it was the only one that stuck, because  _ she  _ had used it, once, sarcastically. “You’re a villain, you’ll never be anything but a villain.”

“How cruel,” he simpered, the trembling in his lower lips artificial. He swung both his feet over the arm of his chair and tilted his head back so that everything was upside down, the wardens scowl now a twisted smile. “You know I really am a sweet guy underneath all of the murder and black leather.” The warden scoffed, growing tired of being played with. In response Yato smiled at him, the smile that made blood run cold and hearts freeze. Sure enough, the warden flinched slightly, disconcerted. Yato had that effect on people.

Yato kicked his legs even higher so they rested against the back of the seat, his head dangling off the front, bangs brushing the ground as he continued to pin Warden Tenjin to the floor with his unnerving cold grin. “To what do I owe the  _ pleasure  _ of this visit?”

“Oh,” The warden said, shaking himself to regain his composure. Yato’s smile deepened. “Something arrived in the mail for you today.”

“Oh!” Yato cried with mock enthusiasm. “Is it a kitten? I’ve  _ always  _ wanted one.”

“It’s a watch, from Metro Woman. The card says, ‘to count every second of your eighty five life sentences.’ Funny, I never pegged her as the gloating type.” Yato tilted his head slightly and allowed his grin to fade. “You know what, it’s rather nice, I think I’ll keep it.”

“Then could you at least do me the favor of giving me the time? I’d  _ hate  _ to be late to the opening of the Metro Woman Museum.”

“It starts in an hour, too bad, I think you’re going to miss it, by several thousand years.”

“What a pity,” Yato sighed exaggeratedly, turning himself right side up. “I’m certain it’s going to be a  _ blast _ .”

“Not for you it’s not.”

“Oh how tragic,” Yato replied quietly, chuckling to himself as he reclined in his seat, and waited.

* * *

 

“Happy Metro Woman day, Metro City! It’s a wonderful day to celebrate a wonderful hero! She’s got a big heart filled with love for this great city and its great people, and we all owe her our lives and gratitude, because without her we’d be living under the thumb of the supervillain known as Megamind. Now, it’s our turn to give something back, which is why the city used your tax dollars to construct this enormous and opulent museum slash monument in her honor! Who needs better pay for educators and proper shelter for the homeless when we have millions of dollars’ worth of marble stairs to walk on, or two-hundred-foot-tall statues of superheroes? This is Iki Hiyori coming at you live from the opening of the Metro Woman Museum with channel seventy-four news.”

“And we’re off,” Yama said, lowering the camera to reveal the worried look on her face. “Are you sure you’re not going to get into trouble for reading a piece like that on live television, Hiyori?”

“It’ll be fine,” Hiyori assured her.

The look on Yama’s face said she doubted that, but she didn’t pursue the topic. Hiyori turned to look for a place to film her next commentary of the event, but instead came face to face with what looked like a can of wasp spray, except she recognized it for what it was. She had just enough time to think  _ oh not again  _ before the hand holding the can of knockout spray pressed the button and released the gas into her face. The world went dark and her knees collapsed before she was pulled into what seemed to be nothing, disappearing, before Yama turned around.

“H-Hiyori?”

* * *

 

Not even a full minute later muffled shouting filtered through the thick steel walls of Yato’s cell, and he got to his feet and crouched behind his chair, barely concealing his giggling.

“No! It’s me, the warden, you fools! Unhand me!” The door opened and Tenjin, now cloaked as Yato, was carried in, still struggling, and forced into the chair Yato was hiding behind.

Yato leapt to his feet and snatched the watch off Tenjin’s wrist, the image of Yato warped, then vanished, revealing Tenjin looking both defeated and furious. He fastened the watch onto his own wrist and twisted the watch face, laughing maliciously as he slammed the cell door behind himself.

“You were right, Warden, I’ll always be a villain!” He strode down the hall to his freedom to the music of prison alarms, slipping through the crowd of guards rushing in the direction of his cell. Not one of them glanced at him a second time, seeing only Tenjin.

He strolled gleefully onto the sidewalk, saluting the on-duty guard, and waited at the curb for what he knew would be coming any minute now. He eyed the air above the road carefully, and grinned when he saw it; the slight distortion in the air, light reflecting off nothing. He grinned and stepped onto the road as the screech of brakes filled the air. Yato grabbed the door handle, swinging open nothing to reveal the interior of the invisible car.

“Hey there, old man, need a ride?” Yato grinned down at Yukine, who was sitting behind the wheel with a mischievous grin of his own. Yato leapt in and slammed the door behind him, buckling his seat belt as Yukine peeled away from the prison.

“Aren’t you a little young to be driving?” Yato asked merrily, flicking the watch face back into its original position so that the illusion dropped, and he was himself again.

“Well I could hardly ask Hiyori to drive,” Yukine replied. Yato glanced behind him to see a woman with a bag over her head bound in the back seat.

“True. Is everything in place for our big day?”

“Of course.”

“Excellent.”

* * *

 

“You have to do it, Viina,” Kazuma said. She scowled, and not for the first time considered throwing the earpiece away. “They’re dedicating a museum to you, it would be rude not to go.”

“But it’s such a hassle. All I wanted was to stop the God of Calamity, I don’t know how it snowballed into all,” she gestured to the writhing crowd below her at the foot of the monument, “this. I didn’t  _ want  _ to become Metro Woman.”

“You picked that name yourself, Viina,” he reminded her.

She frowned, and considered again crushing the earpiece between her fingers, but she knew she couldn’t do it. As the God of Calamity pointed out whenever he got the chance, she would be nothing without her ‘guy behind the computer.’

“You  _ know _ I was taken off guard and couldn’t think of anything else.”

“You could have given them your name.”

“I didn’t think I was supposed to!” She heard Kazuma chuckle quietly and sighed, frustrated. She looked out at the shifting crowd ambivalently from her seat atop the new museum. Luckily no one had noticed her, yet.

“It’s a huge honor for them to have done this. I really think you should go.” She sighed again, this time more exaggeratedly, to let him know she was  _ not  _ happy with it, then allowed herself to hover slightly. She straightened her legs and stretched her arms, still trying to put off the inevitable.

“Alright, I’m going.”

She made her way to the ground slowly, drifting like a leaf falling from a branch. When she was closer to the ground someone shouted, “there she is!” and the noise level in the courtyard skyrocketed. She lifted her hand and waved, quickening her decent to the marble stairs. She touched down gently next to the mayor and he handed her the microphone, smiling. She accepted it as if it were a venomous snake, smiling graciously.

“Kazuma have you got my speech ready?” She asked, through gritted teeth, trying not to move her lips as she sailed over the crowd towards the long pool that stretched out before the museum.

“Affirmative, start when you’re ready.” She took a deep breath, then smiled wide at the crowd, her coat tails billowing out behind her as she turned.

“Good morning Metro City!” She exclaimed into the microphone, injecting false energy into her voice and hoping the citizens didn’t think it sounded artificial. Kazuma waited for the replying cheers to quiet before he began reading the speech he had written for her.

* * *

 

“Ahh, Yukine, it’s good to be home!” Yato cried as he fished Hiyori out of the back seat, throwing her over his shoulder like a flour sack.

“Everything is exactly as you left it,” Yukine responded dryly. He cast a scathing look to the tesla coils, and Yato rolled his eyes. Yukine had always hated those.

“It’s called setting the mood, Yukine! No one is going to respect me as a villain if my evil lair looks like something from  _ Better Homes and Gardens! _ ”

“No one respects you as a villain anyway, Yato.”

“They do so! I’m the scourge of Metrocity!”

“It’s Metro City.”

“Yeah but Metrocity sounds like atrocity and that’s evil!”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I am not! I’m a supervillain and one day I’m going to rule all of Metrocity!”

“Says the guy still wearing prison orange.”

Yato glared at him in response and whistled, and the brain bots descended upon him, carrying new clothes and a changing curtain. He handed Hiyori off to Yukine and a few moments later the brain bots ascended again and took his prison uniform with them, leaving Yato feeling much more like himself again. His hair was pulled back into its usual ponytail, his black leather armor with the spiked vanguards fit him like a second skin and felt almost as much a part of him. Hiyori stirred in Yukine’s arms and they both jumped.

“Oh! Places, Yukine, places!”

Yukine hurried to place Hiyori in the uncomfortable steal chair in the middle of the room while Yato vaulted into his high backed wheeled chair, motioning for a nearby brain bot to land in his lap. He spun so he was facing away from Hiyori as the brain bot folded into his lap, making what he assumed was a sound of contentment. He stroked the brain bots head in what he hoped was a menacing manner.

“Ugh, where am I?” Hiyori asked, voice still muffled by the bag. The swooshing of fabric let him know it had been removed and he swiveled around to face her, trying for his best low, evil chuckle.

“You can try all you want Hiyori, but no one will hear you scream.”

Much to Yato’s chagrin she did  _ not  _ scream, she didn’t so much as whimper. In fact, she wasn’t even looking at him, she was glaring up at Yukine with a look Yato was loath to admit might be just as scary as his.

“Um…” Yukine said, shifting away uncomfortably.

“At least  _ wash  _ the bag!” She snapped furiously. “That  _ thing  _ smells worse than Yato’s jacket!” Yukine’s snort of laughter was drowned out by Yato’s cry of outrage.

“Hey!”

“Sorry, Hiyori,” Yukine said, covering his smile with his hand while Yato spluttered indignantly. “I’ll do that for next time.”

“My jacket does  _ not  _ smell like sweat! Yukine what have you been telling her?” Yukine pressed his hand to his mouth harder to muffle his laughter and turned slightly away from Yato, much to Hiyori’s amusement. A smug smile played across her lips.

“You know you guys must be the worst supervillains ever,” Hiyori commented. “You don’t even bother with code names, I know your real names! You’re not even putting in any effort. I mean are you  _ sure  _ you’re a villain?”

“I am  _ so  _ putting in effort!” Yato replied. “Just look at this place! It  _ oozes _ with  _ evil. _ ”

“The only thing it oozes is bad decorating sense! It looks like you fished half this junk out of the dumpster. Where did you even get it?”

“It mostly came from,” Yukine started off handedly, pausing briefly at Yato’s scandalized screech of something that may have been ‘don’t tell her, Yukine!’ “yard sales.”

“Yukine!” Yato whined, clutching the brain bot tightly in despair. In retaliation it chomped down on his wrist. He shrieked in pain and slung his wrist around, trying to dislodge the brain bot while Yukine and Hiyori watched dully.

“Nice pitch on that one,” Hiyori commented.

“Yeah that might have been a new record for him,” Yukine added.

At last Yato managed to sling off the brain bot, tearing away his leather vanguard and strips of his skin with it. He clutched at his bloodied wrist, tears and betrayal in his eyes.

“You know what, let’s just call your girlfriend in a cape, shall we?”

“Actually, it’s a coat, not a cape. It has sleeves you know,” she corrected. Yato glared over his shoulder at her and pushed a button on his console.

* * *

 

“Eloquent as always, Metro Woman,” the mayor said. “Can we all give another round of applause?” The crowd obliged gleefully. “Now, would you do the honors, Metro Woman?” The mayor asked, indicating the red ribbon stretching across the entrance. She zapped it with her laser vision and it fluttered to the ground, followed by the heavy sound of the curtains falling along with it.

The mood shifted abruptly as brain bots spilled from within the curtain as it fell, swarming the sky and bringing a dark cloud of smoke with them. Bishamon’s eyes narrowed as she surveyed the scene, pushing herself into the air for a better vantage point, watching as the brain bots hovered restlessly above them, seemingly without the intent to do anything else. She waited impatiently for Megamind to make his appearance.

Two versions of the same image appeared on smooth marble walls on either side of her slowly rotating statue.  _ Really _ , she thought,  _ it couldn’t even be stationary. It has to spin. Wonderful.  _ Yato was glaring down at her from both sides, his depraved blue eyes both the size of cars, and Bishamon noted his right arm was tucked behind his back.

“Megamind,” she spat, her voice cold and commanding. She’d dropped her mic when the brain bots appeared, but in this quiet no doubt the entire crowd could hear her clearly. “I should have known you’d crash the party.”

“My name is  _ God of Calamity _ !” He snapped. “And I intend to do more than crash! This is going to be a day Metrocity will never forget!”

“It’s pronounced Metro City, and the only memorable thing that’s going to happen is they’re going to give you another eighty-five life sentences when I throw your ass back in prison!”

“Well let’s see what your precious Hiyori thinks about that!” Yato snapped, dramatically slamming a button and switching one of the projections of him to a projection of Hiyori, tied up and looking bored.

“Oh, I think it’s going to be an even hundred this time.” Yato shot her an annoyed look, frustrated that she wasn’t scared, and Bishamon snorted.

“Give it up,  _ Megamind _ , even your hostage isn’t afraid of you, how do you expect the citizens of Metro City to consider you a serious threat?”

“Maybe Hiyori is just ridiculously brave, ever think of that?” He snapped, gesturing wildly. Something wet and red splashed across the camera he was yelling at, and Bishamon realized why he had been hiding his arm until this point.

“Oh,” Kazuma said. “He’s injured.”

“Ha!” Bishamon laughed. “You’re bleeding! What, did Hiyori already get in a few good hits?”

“No!” Yato protested, hurriedly wiping the blood from the camera and Bishamon could tell from his face he was scrambling for a lie. He was making the same face he’d always made when he was about to come up with a ridiculous. “I hurt myself shaving.” Pure silence met his response, and he colored slightly under his eyes.

“A brain bot bit him!” Hiyori exclaimed into the prolonged silence, and Yato shot her a scandalized look.

“Oh dear,” Kazuma said, sounding exasperated. Bishamon was wheezing with laughter, clutching at her stomach and doubled over in midair, while Yato began to look more and more annoyed.

“You can’t even control your own machines! How pathetic, are you  _ sure _ you’re a villain?”

“Oh yeah?” He shouted. “How about  _ this  _ for control?” He slammed another button on his control panel, eyes alight with cold fury, and she knew this time he was serious. With a mechanical roar the brain bots that had been jostling harmlessly above dived for the crowd. The crowd screamed together and fled in all directions, nearly causing a stampede.

“The same thing is going to happen to Hiyori if you don’t surrender Metrocity to me! You’ll never find me, so don’t bother looking!”

“We’re in the abandoned observatory!” Hiyori shouted, and Yato’s face paled.

“Damn it!” He cried, then shut off the feed quickly.

* * *

 

“Ha!” Hiyori said, looking triumphant. “Metro Woman is on her way here right now and you’re going down!”

Yato was facing away from her so she couldn’t see his expression, but she noticed the change in his demeanor even from behind. After a few moments of silence, a quiet and menacing laugh bubbled up. It was unlike any she had heard from him before and hated to admit was terrifying. She glanced at Yukine, alarmed, and was even more concerned by the dark look he was wearing. A cold chill ran up her spine as Yato turned to her and she saw a look she had never seen before. His eyes glowed with something she’d only ever heard described by Metro Woman.

Depravity.

Hiyori had never seen it in him before, never understood the almost fear that Metro Woman had of him, but now that she saw it. She understood. There was evil in that man. When he grinned, her heart stuttered in her chest. She tried hard not to show her fear, but he seemed to see it anyway. His smile hardened as he pinned her to the floor with his stare, and when he spoke his voice was like cold steel, as sharp as the blade he wore at his hip.

“Oh? Is that so?” Without looking he reached behind himself and flipped a switch. The split in the ceiling where the telescope looked out opened, and what she saw in the distance filled her with a new and dawning horror.

“No…” she moaned.

“Yes,” he replied, voice filled with frozen glee.

Right there, right in front of her eyes was the observatory, the  _ real  _ observatory, meaning she was in a fake one, and had led Metro Woman right into a trap. Megamind had tricked her. Her mournful gaze turned back to Yato, standing outlined by the light of the computer screens and flashing panels at his back. She saw the man who fit the moniker for the first time.

_ God of Calamity. _

“Yukine, fire up the death ray.”

“Right,” Yukine replied. His voice had gone cold as well, his shoulders thrown back in determination.

“Yukine, you don’t have to do this,” Hiyori pleaded, looking at him,  _ really  _ looking for the first time in a while. He couldn’t be out of middle school yet. “I can help you. What does Yato have on you? Black mail? Does he have your parents?” Yukine’s eyes flashed angrily at the word, and she was going to press the point when Yukine spoke again.

“I don’t think you understand, Hiyori. I’m here by choice.” Hiyori’s jaw dropped.

“Please,” she begged, voice cracking. “There’s no hope without Metro Woman.”

“Then there’s no hope,” and with that he flipped a switch, and an entire new computer system lit up. “It’s warming up, Yato.”

And just like that, the illusion of terror burst, the blanket of fear that had cloaked her lifted, and she was back in the shoddy hide out with a terrible super villain and a random child.

“Wait, what?” Yato asked, confusion thawing the ice in his voice. When Hiyori looked back at him he seemed completely normal, so normal that she was beginning to wonder if she’d imagined the change in his aspect.

“It’s warming up,” Yukine repeated.

“It’s a concentrated sun ray, are you telling me the  _ sun  _ is warming up?”

“Maybe it’s concentrating!” Yukine snapped sardonically.

In the distance Hiyori saw something rocketing towards the observatory at inhuman speeds, and she cried out, “there she is!”

Yato’s attention snapped from fussing with Yukine to the monitor in front of him, which showed an image of Metro Woman landing hard on the observatory floor and getting to her feet. Yato slammed his palm down on another button, smearing blood everywhere, and the sky light in the observatory slammed shut behind her. She spun around, confusion written plain across her face.

“Yato I just cleaned that!” Yukine whined.

“Kazuma, are you sure I’m at the right one?” She paused for a moment like she was listening to someone speak, then frowned. “Well there no one-”

“Ha!” Yato cried. “You’ve been fooled!” Metro Woman spun on the spot and faced what Hiyori guessed must have been a projected image of Yato. Hiyori opened her mouth to tell Metro Woman where they were, but Yukine leapt across the room and clapped a hand over her mouth. “And in just a few moments when the death ray finished  _ warming up _ ,” he spat this part out and gave Yukine an annoyed look. Hiyori felt Yukine shrug.

“You’re the one who designed it, pal, it’s not my fault.”

“ _ Anyway _ , once the death ray is finished warming up, you’re a goner, and Metrocity is mine!” Hiyori scoffed internally at the way he pronounced Metro City.

_ How was I ever afraid of this guy? _

“It’s  _ Metro City _ you moron!” Metro Woman snapped.

“It’ll be whatever I want it to be when I take over!”

“The people of Metro City will never bow to you!”

“The people of Metrocity will either bow to me or die,” he said, his voice pitching towards that ruthless note again.

“You can’t rule with fear forever!”

“To bad you won’t live to see if that’s true for yourself.”

“The death ray is 90 percent ready!” Yukine exclaimed, and Yato once again snapped back into his crappy supervillain persona as he glanced over his shoulder and rolled his eyes at Yukine.

“Well thanks for telling her exactly how much time she has to escape.”

_ Don’t tell me he was stalling this whole time. _

“It wouldn’t matter if you had bothered to warm it up earlier!”

“The death ray was your job!” Yato exclaimed, turning fully away from the monitor to glare at Yukine.

“My job was breaking you out of prison,  _ and  _ kidnapping Hiyori,  _ and  _ setting all of this up! You also probably didn’t notice me stopping Hiyori from giving away our true position because you were too busy trying to look cool! What was  _ your  _ job?”

Hiyori peered over Yato’s shoulder at the monitor and was puzzled to see Bishamon slamming repeatedly into the observatory walls only to tumble back to the floor. Hiyori tried to get their attention and make herself heard through Yukine’s hand and their arguing, but they were too involved in their fussing to notice. At last she broke down and bit the inside of Yukine’s palm.

“Ahhh! Ow! Gross, Hiyori, what the hell?”

“Watch your fucking mouth, Yukine!” Yato scolded.

“She  _ bit  _ me!”

“Gross Hiyori what the hell?” Yato parroted, wrinkling his nose at her. His left hand drifted to his right arm unconsciously, gripping the shredded flesh gingerly as he looked at her like she’d grown a second head.

“Look at Metro Woman!” She said, jerking her chin towards the monitor.

Yato turned and made a small confused sound in the back of his throat when Metro Woman once again slammed into the shell of the observatory and hit the ground. Hiyori couldn’t help but think the sound was incongruous with the dire situation.

“What’s… going on?”

“You… God of Calamity…” Metro Woman wheezed, “this observatory… is lined with copper, isn’t it?”

“Um…” Yato hummed, glancing at Yukine, then shrugging. “Dunno, I didn’t exactly check the chemical makeup of the  _ ceiling _ when I picked it.”

“It is lined with copper,” Yukine offered.

“Why do you know that?” Yato asked. He threw a hand up at the monitor. “You hold on. Why do you know that? Why would you possibly know that the observatory is lined with copper?”

“Well  _ someone  _ has to do your job, and you sure ain’t!”

“I am too! Look at me! I’m killing Metro Woman!”

“Actually,  _ I’m  _ killing Metro Woman, I’m the one who did all the work.”

“You did not do  _ all  _ the work!”

“Copper,” Metro Woman groaned, looking peeved by the argument the two of them were having, “drains my power. How did your minion know?”

“Seriously?” Yato asked.

“You mean to tell me your weakness is pennies?” Yukine asked, incredulously.

“Pennies are made of zinc now you idiots,” Metro Woman snapped.

“You mean the government is lying to us?” Yato asked, dismayed.

“You mean to tell me the two of you actually have a shot at killing Metro Woman and it’s by pure dumb luck?” Hiyori asked, caught halfway between hysterical amusement and horror.

“Um,” Yato said, shrugging apologetically, “yes?”

An alarm sounded a moment later, and all heads turned to the monitor as the progress bar disappeared and was replaced with the words “READY TO FIRE” in big red letters.

“Yukine!” Yato cried, and Yukine leapt obligingly across the room and threw the lever that activated the death ray. The words on screen changed. FIRING SEQUENCE INITIATED.

Moments later a solid beam of light descended from the sky and bore into observatory. It hit with a massive explosion that they saw before they felt, the shockwave knocking Yato clean off his feet once it reached them. Hiyori’s mind was filled with only one prayer, a prayer that she knew in her heart would go unanswered.

_ Please don’t let Metro Woman be dead. _

  
  



	2. People Don't Really Burst Into Song Like They Do In Musicals But They Should

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The city is in shock over the death of Metro Woman, Yato and Yukine included. A few shenanigans entail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Yato- planned a flashmob for Yukine's birthday  
> * Megamind danced down the street to Highway to Hell  
> it was only a matter of time before this AU happened

_Please don’t let Metro Woman be dead._

But as time passed and the dust began to settle, the held breath was released, the stillness stirred, the impossible accepted. The death ray worked.

The death ray worked.

_The death ray worked._

The words were passed through the crowd in whispers, starting first at the front and moving backwards like a shadow. A very real darkness fell upon the crowd with the words as a chill settled over them and the silence that chased the whispers tore through the crowd like a disease until there was no sound at all. A baby cried. The spell was broken. A woman screamed, people were sobbing, still more were shouting, and suddenly, almost as one, the crowd realized they were outside. It wasn’t safe outside. Megamind-no- the _God of Calamity_ could get to them outside. They needed to get _inside._ They needed to be wrapped in layers of steal and brick and glass like a child wrapped in a blanket, though not a person alive thought that those things would provide any protection against the God of Calamity if he truly wanted to hurt them, but they had to try _something_.

They needed to get away from this place, this monument to the God of Calamity’s greatest enemy. They had to hide, to keep their heads down, and try to survive.

They would not live. No one would ever _live_ again under the tyrannical rule of a supervillain. No one would sing or laugh or cry too loudly on the streets, or possibly even in their homes, for fear of drawing attention. Already a dull haze of terror had settled over the city, a caustic fog that they were all scared to inhale, but they had to breathe, and with every breath the fear pierced deeper.

The mob did not descend into hysterics, but began to shuffle out of the square, downtrodden, the only sounds to be heard were the shuffling of feet, and the deafening quiet.

“I-wait. Seriously? Is this- what?” Yukine was stammering, staring out at the ruined conservatory, struggling to form a finished thought. Yato, on the other hand, was totally still and silent, his expression unreadable.

In truth, he was having a hard time sorting through all his emotions. He wasn’t feeling at all how he thought he would, he was all shock and confusion and disbelief and underneath it all, there was a feeling nagging at his gut that might have been guilt.

_Kazuma_.

Yato pushed the thought away, ignoring the image of Kazuma’s devastation that his mind had created. This was business, nothing more. That crazy bitch had been trying to kill him for almost their whole lives. Kazuma had to have known that one way or the other he would end up mourning one of them, and he could hardly blame Yato for choosing his life over hers. It was simply the position Kazuma had set himself up in, loving two people who were sworn enemies. He wouldn’t allow that to infringe on his success, his freedom, his _victory._ He had won, finally won! He was safe from her constant pursuit, and he had everything he wanted.

“We did it,” he said. The words came out as a croak, though he had intended for them to be a triumphant cry of joy. He tried again. “We did it!” Stronger this time, but even to his own ears he sounded like he didn’t believe it. “We did it! We did it! WE DID IT!” He became more and more animated, bouncing up and down on the spot, a smile spreading from ear to ear. He seized Yukine’s wrist and tried to do a gleeful waltz, but Yukine threw him off.

“Get your sweaty hands off me, Yato!” It was the first successful sentence he’d formed since the observatory exploded.

“My hands are not sweaty!”

“They are!” Yukine insisted. “And look, that one’s covered in blood! I don’t want to get whatever nasty diseases you’ve got!”

“I don’t have any diseases, Yukine!”

“I’m not buying it! I don’t know where you’ve been!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Yato replied, looking scandalized.

“It means exactly what you think it means, perv! I don’t know what you were doing before I met you, I bet you spent all your free time in sleazy bars!”

“I did not!”

“Prove it!”

“If I spent all my time in sleazy bars wouldn’t I have a better alcohol tolerance? I’m a lightweight and you know it!”

“That’s just because you look like a stick bug!”

“I dO NOT!” Yato cried, clutching his thin arms. “I’m attractively _slender_! And I _don’t_ have any diseases!”

“I don’t believe you!” Yato and Yukine glared hotly at one another, silent while they tried to come up with more insults. The sounds of breath hitching, and a small sniffle reminded them that they had company, and they turned to look at Hiyori, still tied to a chair between them. Yato’s eyes widened in horror when he realized that she was crying.

“I can’t believe the two of you are about to take over the city when you’re such- such _idiots!_ ”

“Rude!” Yato replied. Hiyori sobbed again and wiped her wet cheeks on her shoulder. Yato felt a little bad for her. “Um… there, there?” It sounded like a question.

“I’m not crying,” Hiyori snapped, “I’ve just got some leftover debris in my eye. I’m fine.”

“WHAT?” Yukine exclaimed, horrified.

“THAT SOUNDS LIKE THE OPPOSITE OF FINE TO ME!” Yato exclaimed. Hiyori rubbed her face again and Yato became even more panicked if that was even possible. “NO HIYORI DON’T RUB YOUR EYES YOU’LL MAKE IT WORSE! TAKE DEEP BREATHS LIKE THIS!” He proceeded to do a few deep breaths that sounded remarkably like Lamaze breathing.

“WILL THAT REALLY HELP HER?” Yukine asked, his voice pitched an octave higher with worry.

“I don’t know! Get the first aid kit, we need to wash out her eyes!”

“We don’t have a first aid kit!” Yukine howled.

“Why don’t we have a first aid kit?”

“Because that cost money and you spend all ours on shit we don’t need at yard sales to decorate the lair!” Yato gasped.

“Oh no what do we do? WHAT IF SHE LOSES HER EYE? SHE NEEDS THAT TO SEE!”

“Ahhh I don’t know! Hiyori your dad is a doctor what do we do?” Yukine asked.

“How do you know tha- wait, your dad is a doctor?” Hiyori nodded, wondering how her life ended up with her tied to a chair between the worst supervillain ever, who couldn’t seem to figure out that the wellbeing of his hostages wasn’t supposed to matter to him, and his random child sidekick that was maybe a captive maybe not, but seemed to be holding the whole operation together.

“If you could just drop me off at our hospital that’d be great,” Hiyori sniffed, figuring she’d backed herself into the ‘debris in eye’ corner and had to play it out now.

“Wait, your family _owns_ a hospital?” Yato asked incredulously. “Are you rich?”

“What? No, don’t be silly, I’m just a normal reporter.”

“Are you telling me this whole time we could have been holding you for ransom to fund our evil escapades and not selling hand knitted scarves?” Yato asked, thinking bitterly of the callouses he had gotten from hours of knitting.

“Where did you get hand knitted scarves?” Hiyori asked.

“I knitted them,” Yato replied, as if it should have been obvious.

“You know how to knit?”

“Also crochet, sew, weave, cook, and draw,” Yukine added. “He’s pretty artistic. Actually, he’s working on embroidery now.” Hiyori was surprised how the image that floated into her mind of Yato bent happily over an embroidery hoop seemed _right_ somehow.

“Where do you get all the supplies to do that?” She asked.

“Do you remember the arts and crafts store I blew up?”

“Oh my God.”

“I emptied it out first.”

“I _knew_ there had to be a better reason for that!” She blurted. “Why isn’t this place better decorated then?”

“Be _cause_ ,” Yato articulated, and Hiyori had the feeling that she had hit a nerve, “it’s an _evil_ lair. It has to look _evil_!”

“But this place is just a dump!”

“It is _not_!” Yato protested. “I like it!”

“Don’t bother arguing with him about it, Hiyori, we’ve had the conversation a dozen times. At least our apartment is nice,” Yukine said.

“You mean you don’t live here?”

“Why would we live here? It’s a dump.”

“Yukine! You’re giving away all our secrets!” Yato whined.

“What secrets? She already knows our real names and faces, and what the inside of our lair looks like, what’s the harm in knowing that we don’t live here?” Yato opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again. Yukine looked triumphant, then looked back down at Hiyori. “By the way, do you need any fake grapes or flowers? We have more than we know what to do with after the craft store robbery.”

“No, but I just remembered that I need one of you to stamp my frequent kidnapping card.”

“Haha very funny, Hiyori, you of all people should know we discontinued that promotion!” Hiyori smirked hatefully at him.

“You’re right I do know that.” Next a serious expression came over her face, and she looked appraisingly up at Yato. “So, what’s next? What are you going to do now?” He looked surprised by the question for a moment, then confused, then delighted. He looked over at Yukine, who was starting to look like he wanted to trade places with Metro Woman.

“ _Please_ tell me we are not really doing _that_.”

* * *

 

“Hit it, Yukine!” Yato said. Yukine groaned, and pressed play on the enormous boom box he had over his shoulder.

Yato had spent weeks choreographing this scene _just in case_ he ever needed it. It was a flash mob consisting of only Yato and his brain bots (Yukine refused to participate on the grounds of having some self-respect.) It was set to take place down Main Street, with Yato and his brain bots dancing down the home stretch which lead straight to city hall, Yukine trailing sulkily behind, holding the boombox. The mob would end on the steps of City Hall, where Yato would officially declare himself In Charge.

It was honestly quite elaborate, with laser lights and synchronized movements, and an aerial brigade. Yato had put a great deal of work into it, and if the brain bots had the ability to die he might have worked them to death. However, Yukine couldn’t help but feel like this was all for naught. Nobody was even _watching._ Why was this so important to Yato?

“It’s all in the _presentation_ , Yukine!” Yato had told him once.

As it turns out, Yato had also planned additional stunts Yukine hadn’t known about. Once they were within shouting distance of City Hall he found out some of the brain bots had been rigged to release smoke for a more Dramatic entrance, and the bots used their lasers to spell out “GOD OF CALAMITY” in the sky. _Wow,_ Yukine thought. _If only he’d put this much energy into taking over the city, he might have had the occasion to unveil all these tricks sooner._

As they approached City Hall the outlines of hundreds of police officers with their guns pointing right at them became visible through the smoke, and now he understood why Yato had _insisted_ on Yukine wearing their only bullet proof vest under his shirt. As they got closer Yukine began hearing some of what the crowd was saying.

“It’s the God of Calamity!”

“Who is that beside him?”

“It’s a kid!” Yukine moved closer to Yato uneasily. Yato didn’t look at him, but moved farther away from Yukine, while pretending he wasn’t. Yukine scowled, knowing Yato was probably hoping that if he was further away any bullets meant for him wouldn’t hit Yukine. _Stupid idiot,_ Yukine thought. _Doesn’t he know I’m the one supposed to be protecting_ him _?_

“Whose kid is that?”

“How did he end up with Megamind?” _Just ignore them, Yukine,_ he thought.

Yato needn’t have worried about Yukine’s wellbeing. Once they got close to the barricades all it took was one of Yato’s steely glares for the officers to drop their guns and surrender. The crowd parted like the Red Sea and Yato and Yukine strolled right through, Yukine trying hard to keep his face neutral as whispers followed him.

“Maybe he’s being held hostage?”

“Could he be the God of Calamity’s son?”

Yato ascended the stairs and turned to face the crowd, taking a microphone from a brain bot and shuffling his feet, trying to look like he was just nervous, but ending up between Yukine and the potential threat again. He tapped on the microphone a few times to be sure it was on, then turned his icy grin towards the spectators. They recoiled.

Yukine couldn’t blame them, those grins _were_ scary, though nowhere near as scary to as his malicious laugh, or the depraved sort of chill his eyes took on sometimes. Even those had never scared Yukine, however, because they all belonged to Yato, and Yato would never hurt him.

Those pieces of Yato had always been there, as a child Yukine had looked into the ice-cold eyes and felt warm.

“Helllllooooooo Metrocity!” Yato began, still grinning unnervingly. The pleasant lilt in his voice contrasted with the expression, making the picture even more unsettling. “I am your new ruler, The God of Calamity. First of all, I would like to thank you all so much for showing up and assure you that no matter what you imagined my rule as being I can promise you that _this is going to be so much worse._ ” An audible gasp arose from the crowd as Yato’s voice became suddenly brutal and cold. He held out his hand, palm up, and a brain bot picked up the microphone and flew away. He gestured for Yukine to enter the building first, then slammed the door after he crossed the threshold.

“Come on, hide, they can still see you through the door!” Yato whispered, pulling Yukine down to hide behind the wall and concealing a giggle. He grinned, for real this time, with a warmth Yukine knew Yato didn’t show anyone else. “So? Was I super cool?” Yato asked, face glowing with happiness.

“I don’t know about _super_ cool, but it was at least _kinda_ cool,” Yukine replied, not having the heart to crush his dreams. “Did you hear the way they all gasped when you did the scary voice?” Yato nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah! It was amazing! They were so scared of me!”

“I mean you _are_ the God of Calamity,” Yukine offered, softening when Yato lit up at the use of his preferred alias. Yukine usually used ‘Megamind’ just to annoy him, but tonight was a big night, so he could make an exception.

“And now you can go to any school in the city!” Yato exclaimed. “We don’t have to worry about tuition!”

“I have to go to _school_ now? How would that work?” Yukine asked, horrified.

“Isn’t it obvious? We would show up at a school one day and I would use my scary voice and say, ‘this is Yukine he’s thirteen he goes here now’ and they’d say, ‘okay Mister God of Calamity.”

“ _No one_ is going to call you that, Yato.”

“They _might._ If I told them too.” Yukine couldn’t argue with that, so he kept silent.

Would he be terribly behind in school? Yato did his best to homeschool him, but Yato hadn’t had the best education himself, so there were things he simply didn’t know. Everything he knew he had taught himself. Not to mention from now on he would be ‘the kid with the God of Calamity.’ What if everyone hated him, or was afraid of him, or if someone in his class knew someone Yato had killed?

“Maybe I _shouldn’t_ go to school,” Yukine suggested nervously, shifting to sit down instead of crouch. Yato did the same. “I mean, how _would_ that work? Really? And who would look after you and protect you while I’m gone? I’m the only friend you’ve got. The brain bots can only do so much you know,” he was avoiding Yato’s eyes, hoping he wouldn’t realize the real reason he didn’t want to go. “Also, it’s the middle of the semester, wouldn’t it be better if I waited until next term?”

“You’re afraid the other kids will hate you because you’re the ‘kid with the God of Calamity’ now,” Yato said softly. _How did he know?_

“No,” Yukine said, scoffing, but even he could hear that he wasn’t being convincing. “I’m just worried you’ll accidentally kill yourself if I’m not here to watch you.” Yato was silent for several long moments before he clapped his hands together once.

“Okay!” He announced, “You’re right.” Yato got to his feet and held a hand out to Yukine.

“I-I am?” He asked, taking the offered hand, taking note that Yato was still favoring his injured arm.

“Yeah! We both know you do most of the work around here anyway, and the first few months of an evil empire are the most crucial. I need you around; school can wait. Besides, where else are you going to get the real-world experience of building an empire?”

“Good point,” Yukine said, suspicious about Yato being so forthcoming.

“This is _much_ more valuable than what you’d be learning at middle school.” He threw his arm around Yukine’s shoulder, and Yukine decided, just this once, not to throw him off.

“Right.”

“And you’re right. I’d probably end up killing myself accidentally, I mean, just look at the state of my arm! I think it’s infected!” _There it is_ , Yukine thought. Yato was being so nice so Yukine wouldn’t yell at him for not taking proper care of the wound. “Do you think there’s a first aid kit in this building anywhere?” He asked, holding up his arm for Yukine to see. Yukine nearly tripped over his own feet in shock. It _was_ infected. Nobody ever cleaned the mouths in those brain bots, so there were probably all sorts of bacteria in them.

“There has to be a nurse’s office in here somewhere,” Yukine said, concerned. “We’ll find it, and I’ll take care of it.”

“If it’s too hard for you maybe we can ask Hiyori’s dad for help,” Yato suggested.

“I think he may try to kill you for kidnapping his daughter all those times,” Yukine said. “Oh, and Yato?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re in charge now. You don’t ask anymore, you _command_.”

“Right!” Yato replied, grinning brightly.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Yukine said, feeling a sudden tender impulse.

“What?”

“I’m really proud of you. I always knew you could do it.” Yato’s smile was even brighter than the concentrated ray of sun that had gotten them here.

* * *

 

Iki Hiyori sat on the couch in her apartment, glaring at the new floral arrangement on her coffee table that sat next to a large pile of fake grapes. Her father had told her they had been sitting next to her on the pavement when the nurses had found her, unconscious. It was probably Yukine’s doing, even though she had said she hadn’t wanted any. She huffed, thinking she should just throw them away, and got to her feet. She walked across the apartment and stepped out onto her balcony, looking out across the city.

It was mostly dark tonight, people were turning in early either in the hopes of avoiding notice or of waking up to find out that this nightmare wasn’t real. She could see all the way to the Metro Woman museum, a white flag of surrender against the dark battlefield of the city. It was so tall that it covered up City Hall, where _he_ was.

Hiyori believed what Metro Woman had always said, that hope and good would always rise up against evil and win… eventually. But how long was eventually, and how much suffering was between now and then? How many people would die, and what would Metro City become before a new hero rose from Metro Woman’s ashes. Even so, would the new hero have the power to stand up to Yato? The God of Calamity and Metro Woman had immigrated from their home planets as children, it was why they had such great powers, but how many aliens like them were out there?

Not to mention what had happened with Yato today. She’d spent _entirely_ too long with that man what with all the kidnappings, and she’d _never_ seen anything like that happen with him before. He’d been like an entirely different person; a real super villain. She hated to admit it was probably the most scared she’d ever been in her life, and the first time she’d felt like Yato was a threat. The look in his eyes, the way he’d laughed, she didn’t have the words to describe exactly what it was. She knew one thing, though, whatever it was, it didn’t bode well for Metro City.

* * *

 

Kazuma shuddered just thinking about the events of the day.

_He vaulted to his feet behind his desk, eyes fixed desperately on Viina as she lay, helpless on the floor of the observatory. How had he not_ known _that the observatory was lined with copper?_

_“Viina!” He cried into the mic, “I’m coming! I’m on my way, don’t worry! I’ll get you out!” He sprinted out of the room, snatching the keys off the table, and leapt into the car. Would he be able to make it there in time?_

_“You won’t make it,” a voice whispered in his head. He jumped, then remembered that he’d left his Bluetooth in. “Stay away. Stay safe.”_

_“Don’t talk like that Viina! I won’t let you die! I won’t!” The garage door couldn’t open fast enough. He raced through the streets at twice the legal limit and wasn’t stopped once. The police had dedicated most of the city’s police force to the opening of the Metro Woman Museum, just in case. “And all the good it did,” he muttered bitterly._

_At first, he had been relieved when he saw that Yato had broken out of prison, he’d have someone to drink with again, and he’d hated the idea of Yato languishing alone in a cell. Not to mention Yukine needed him, and from what Yato had told him he sounded like a good kid who’d had a tough break. Kazuma hadn’t expected this._ But what _did_ you expect you fool? _He berated himself,_ when the two people you love most are trying to kill each other? _He’d never thought it would actually come to this. He’d always thought he’d have more time, more brains, more courage to do the right thing and finally confess his sins to Viina._ Damn it, Kazuma. This is your fault. Your fault, your fault, your fault. _If only he’d come clean, if only he’d never let Yato lie for him. If only he’d been braver, none of this would be happening._

_Yato wouldn’t have been forced to kill Viina for his own safety, because Viina never would have had this all-consuming vendetta against him. She would not have had to become Metro Woman to stop Yato, who would not have become the God of Calamity. His fault, his fault, his fault. Right now, Yato was about to put Viina in her grave. His Yato, his Viina._

_His Fault._

_He didn’t make it. The shockwave hit him in the chest, knocking his breath away, and he saw the beam of light from several streets away. Just like that, his world stopped, but his car didn’t. There was no sound, no texture, no warmth, no color. The city was just a passing collection of gray whisking past his windshield as he shot numbly through the streets._

No, _he told himself._ No. She survived. She had to survive. No way something like that had killed her. She’s damn near invulnerable, you just have to go and dig her out. No way that something like that had killed her.

_An unnatural calm took hold of Kazuma as he sped towards the abandoned observatory and its_ stupidly _long driveway. There was debris everywhere that swerved to avoid, and he thanked the heavens that the place wasn’t on fire, although vicious waves of heat were rising from the wreckage. The metal glowed with heat and would probably melt his skin off if he touched it. It wasn’t safe for him to get any closer, but he had too. He had to find her. She had to be in there. She had to be. He couldn’t lose her._

_He couldn’t._

_“Viina!” He shouted, taking several steps forward and then reeling back. The heat was so suffocating he couldn’t breathe. If she was in there… “VIINA!” He tried again, then paused and listened hard. There! What was that?_

_“Kazu..ma,” he spun to face the horribly neglected garden, searching for the source of the sound. Could she have made it out before the blast?_

_He heard his name again and sprinted in that direction. He knew when he saw her that she hadn’t made it out before the explosion. She had been thrown out here by the blast like any other piece of debris and tossed unceremoniously into the bushes. Her clothes were melted, and her skin peppered with copper shrapnel. His knees nearly gave way when his eyes landed on her stomach._

_A large piece of twisted copper was imbedded deeply in her stomach, blood leaking slowly from the wound. Her skin was practically impenetrable, but with the force of the blast, and the fact that it was copper… Kazuma leaned down and carefully picked her up, carrying her gently to the car and gently laying her in the backseat. He pressed a kiss to her palm._

_“Don’t worry,” he told her, “I’ll get you help. I will.”_

_He drove as quickly as he dared, not wanting to jostle her, and pulled into the first hospital that he came across. The emergency staff of Iki General Hospital tried to tell him he wasn’t allowed to park in the ambulance bay but fell silent when they laid eyes on the patient._

_“Cover her face,” he ordered. “Not one person is to know who she is. The God of Calamity cannot_ _know that she is alive.” The nurses nodded grimly. They fetched a gurney and a sheet to cover her face and iconic long blonde hair and wheeled her into an emergency O.R. He was not allowed to go with her, so he stood outside the double doors, covered in blood, and didn’t move until a doctor came out to meet him._

_“How is she?” Kazuma asked without preamble._

_“She’s stable, and her wounds appear to already be closing, however, she sustained heavy damage.”_

_“And?”_

_“I’m afraid she’d in a coma.”_

_“Will she wake up?”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_“Where is she? Can I see her?”_

_“Right this way.”_

_Once he got into the room and saw her laying in that bed, so pale and fragile looking he nearly collapsed again. He glanced around, there were several medical personnel present, though the privacy curtain had been drawn._

_“Is everyone who saw her face in this room?” Kazuma asked. The doctor nodded. “Then,” he looked at the embroidered name on the doctor’s coat, “Doctor Iki I’m sorry.” He pulled out a can of memory erasing spray that had been a gift from Yato and sprayed it in the face of everyone in the room. He didn’t know exactly how it worked, but Yato said it made people forget the last few hours of their lives and didn’t cause permanent damage. So, he said. He was so desperate that he didn’t care if it caused damage at this point, but Yato had always at least respected Kazuma’s morals, if not necessarily deciding to adhere to them._

 

“Hey, Viina, it’s going to be alright,” he said, stroking her forehead gently. They were back in their secret lair with Viina hooked up to an IV. He couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. “You’re going to wake up soon, I know it.”

But he couldn’t shake the worry that she might not wake up, nor the fear of what might happen if she didn’t.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yato doesn't really cry this much in canon, but he should.


	3. It's Perfectly Normal for a Grown Man to be Afraid of a Needle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out the awesome artwork for this chapter here!!
> 
> https://mixspixs.tumblr.com/post/173833747526/the-first-artwork-to-go-hand-in-hand-with

Rabo leaned eagerly towards the television, face mere inches from the screen, eyes fixated on the face it displayed.

“There it is,” he said, his quiet voice twisted with mad delight. “ _That’s_ the expression I was looking for. _There_ is the God of Calamity I know.” His voice disturbed the silence in the empty room, filling the darkness with a hysterical sort of calm.

He remembered that look from when they were children, those cold eyes glowing with depravity.

_Beautiful._

He’d thought it then, and he thought it now. The God of Calamity’s voice pitched lower fiendishly, and a cold thrill shot up Rabo’s spine. He couldn’t contain his delighted laugh, painted with madness, when the God of Calamity turned and slammed the door in the faces of the assembled crowd, leaving the people of Metro City hopeless and broken with those ominous words of warning in their ears. He threw his head back and laughed at the ceiling, his entire body shaking.

The only thing that tainted the moment was the presence of that infernal child, the one who had been holding the God of Calamity back for two years now.

In the corner of the room, folded carefully in contrast with the chaos of the apartment, lay a pristine white coat folded over a scarlet hakama, waiting, waiting, waiting for the right time; and as Rabo continued to laugh at the expressions of fearful reporters with pale faces and eyes wide with terror, he knew. _The time was almost upon him._

* * *

 

The first full day of Megamind’s rule was met with trepidation and fear. Businesses closed their doors, workers called in sick, and only people who had no place else to go remained outside. Every heart trembled in fear, except for one.

Iki Hiyori reclined on her apartments balcony, surveying the city critically with a glass of red wine in one hand. Her work had been canceled due to most of the station crew being afraid to leave their houses. Hiyori would deal with that later, but for now she just sat and watched.

Channel four seemed to have a better handle on the situation than her channel did, Hiyori had her TV volume turned up so she could listen from the balcony. So far everything was quiet- Megamind had yet to be spotted outside City Hall- but Hiyori was certain he was waiting, biding his time, building anticipation before his dramatic entrance.

 _He is so dramatic,_ she sighed internally. The city was quiet. She was determined to keep watch over it, to be its protector until someone more capable of challenging Megamind rose up to defeat him. _But until then_ , she thought, finishing off her glass of wine and getting to her feet. It was time to start the day, and she would start by tracking down all the necessary stage crew to get her broadcast up and running. They were going to carry on and make due.

* * *

 

“Yukine, I thought you were going to take care of this!” Yato whined, clutching at his throbbing wrist. The skin was red and inflamed and sensitive to the touch; Yukine’s first aid treatment last night had done nothing to help his condition.

“I’m thirteen! Why would I know how to properly treat a wound? I did my best! I’m driving you to a hospital now to get it treated before it has to be amputated!”

“IT CAN’T BE AMPUTATED I NEED IT TO FIGHT! I’M RIGHT HANDED!”

“I KNOW THAT’S WHY I’M TAKING YOU TO THE DOCTOR!” Yukine shouted back.

Usually driving around in the invisible car was tricky, attempting to slide through traffic in a car that no one could see could be dangerous, but today there was nobody else out on the road.

“Where is everybody?” Yato asked curiously, some-but not all- of the whine leaving his voice as he gazed out the window.

“Staying home I bet. You promised a reign of terror last night, remember? They’re probably all hunkering down and preparing for the worst.”

“That’s no fun, who’s gonna see me be the boss then?”

“Me, unfortunately,” Yukine muttered. After his brief moment of sentimentality last night, he was back to his usual self.

“Yeah, but who _else_?”

“I dunno, maybe people when they watch the news?”

“Hiyori’s news didn’t come on today, did you notice?” Yato asked.

“Yeah, I did.” He’d actually been watching for her. He wanted to see what she would say about Yato’s new status as Evil Overlord. No doubt she would be scathing and critical, as always, but she had a large viewership and it was important to know what she was saying. She hadn’t said anything today, which was strange.

Yukine was sure she wasn’t afraid, she’d never been afraid of Yato, except for yesterday when she’d seen him change, but _everyone_ was afraid of that side of Yato, so that hardly counted in his mind. Not to mention she’d gone back to her usual self just as quickly as Yato had.

“Maybe the rest of her news crew was too frightened to show up for work,” Yukine suggested, sure Yato had already come to the same conclusion.

“Maybe… maybe she was just tired. That stuff got in her eye yesterday, maybe her dad put her on bedrest?”

“Bed rest for an eye injury?” Yukine said, thinking that didn’t sound right to him, but then again Yato’s red and swollen wrist was a testament to how much he _didn’t_ know about medicine.

“It could happen!” Yato insisted. A few minutes later they pulled into an emergency room parking lot and were surprised to find the lights off and doors locked.

“Are they closed?” Yukine asked, peering through the glass door.

“Who closes an emergency room?” Yato asked incredulously. “What, are people just going to stop having emergencies?”

“No, I think they’re just going to stop being treated for them,” Yukine said somberly.

“That’s terrible! After this I need to order all emergency services to re-open.”

“Good idea, I mean what if some old lady had a heart attack?”

“Or an Evil Overlord had a very understandable accident with a metal robot with a brain?”

“I think that’s a bit too specific, Yato.”

“So what do we do, just go to another ward and ask to be seen?”

“ _Demand_ you mean,” Yukine reminded him, “and I don’t know, maybe? What if no one is there and the patients are alone?”

“What if one of the patients is a doctor? They could help me.”

“If they’re a patient them self I don’t think they’re going to _want_ to help you, Yato. They’ll want to be treated themselves.”

“Well now we know not to let you do it,” Yato replied.

“I’ll say.” In the end they got back into their car and drove to another, thankfully open, emergency room.

“Hello!” Yato called upon entering, every face turned towards him, and there was a collective intake of horror. Someone screamed; Yato jumped. “I’m not here to hurt anyone, I just need medical attention.” He lifted his injured arm to show off his infected wound and one or two people grimaced.

“Also, he needs a tetanus shot,” Yukine chimed in.

“No! No shot!”

“Yes! You’re getting a shot!” Yukine insisted.

There were several moments of silence where Yato blinked expectantly at the staff before anything happened. Eventually a brave looking nurse threw back her shoulders, set her chin, and stepped forward.

“Right this way,” she gestured for them to follow her and they obliged, Yato smiling cheerfully.

He thanked her when she showed them to the exam room and told them the doctor would be right with them in a few minutes. Yato hopped up onto the exam table and began swinging his legs idly while Yukine sat in the chair that he’d seen parents occupy in the movies.

 _Why does this feel so natural?_ Yukine wondered. He watched Yato swing his legs back and forth with a bored expression, his head tilted back to stare at the ceiling. He _did_ look young, especially with his hair pulled back into his signature ponytail. As Yukine watched Yato started humming idly to himself and pulled out a piece of candy to eat. After thirty minutes Yukine had had enough of waiting and vaulted to his feet, annoyed, and startled Yato. He stormed three steps to the door and flung it open, coming face to face with the nurse from before, looking equally as angry as him. They both jumped back in surprise.

“Sorry!” They said together, then Yukine stepped back to let her in.

“Sorry about your wait, Mister God of Chaos,” the nurse said, and Yato sat up to give Yukine a smug look. Yukine rolled his eyes, _great. Now he’ll never stop wanting to be called that._ “As it turns out our on-duty doctor is an idiot and a coward, so I’ll be administering your treatment today.”

“Okay,” Yato said, rolling up his sleeve to give her a better look at his mutilated arm. “One of our brain bots bit me, and my minion is clueless about healthcare.”

“I’m thirteen,” Yukine reminded him. “You’re the one who asked a kid to treat a serious injury.”

“I seem to recall you offering, short stuff,” Yato retorted.

“I’m not that short! Besides, I’m still growing,” Yukine fumed.

“Sorry to interrupt, but was the brain bot that bit you rusty?” Yato gasped in indignation.

“Of course not! I take care of my babies!”

“You don’t take care of anything, I do,” Yukine said. “And yes, it was rusty. I’d feel better if you gave him a tetanus shot just in case.”

“If that’s the case I think you’re right, and we’ll also have to open the wounds to drain them,” Yukine nodded, “is he allergic to any medications?”

“Not that we know of, but we don’t exactly seek medical attention through the normal routes, you know?”

“I understand.”

“Um,” Yato said, sounding a bit lost. “I don’t really want a shot.”

“Get over it, you’re getting one.”

“But I don’t wanna!”

“Did I start that sentence off with ‘if it may please your majesty?’”

“No, but you should have,” Yato grumbled.

“Not even in your dreams. You’re getting a shot, and you’re going to like it.” Yato harrumphed and crossed his arms, then winced.

“Okay, well I have the shot right here,” the nurse said, pulling out and uncapping a needle. Yukine suddenly had a dark thought. He seized her wrist, cutting off her explanation of where the shot would go. With the way she was sitting he towered over her, and he did his best impression of Yato’s scary face.

“If that happens to _not_ be a tetanus shot, and this is your attempt at being a hero I _strongly_ suggest you rethink it. If you’ve misplaced the correct shot _now_ is the time to find it and escape with your life.” From the corner of his eye he saw Yato’s jaw drop and judging by the fear on the nurses face he had done a pretty good job with his impression.

“I-it is the correct shot, sir,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. He nodded once and released her, taking a step back to allow her room to work. After the shot was administered he had to help her clean and redress Yato’s wound because none of the other nurses were brave enough to do it.

 _It’s just as well_ , Yukine thought. _I_ do _need to learn to take better care of him._ He asked the nurse to explain what she was doing and why, so he would remember for later.

Embarrassingly, Yato asked for a sucker before they left, and when they walked out the stick was hanging out of his mouth and his words were slurred around the candy. Once they got into the car, however, Yato whooped with joy.

“Yukine that was so _cool_!” He placed one hand on Yukine’s shoulder and shook him excitedly. “I didn’t even _think_ that the shot might not be the right one, and the way you just threatened that nurse! She was so scared! Your scary face was so good! When did you learn to do that?”

“Honestly, I was just trying to copy you,” Yukine admitted, embarrassed by all the praise. He spun around in his seat, horrified, when Yato burst into tears.

“Yukine, you’re the best boy!” He tried to fling his arms around him, but Yukine shoved him off.

“Get off me, Yato! Quit acting so weird! It’s not that big of a deal! I just wanted to make sure she didn’t kill you!” That had apparently been the wrong thing to say, because that only made Yato blubber louder.

“That’s so sweet, Yukine!”

“Would you quit crying?” Yukine said, half crying half pleading. “Why are you such a crybaby? All I did was threaten some nurse and you’re sniveling like a kid! It’s not like you don’t threaten people all the time!”

“It’s your first threat, though!” Yato wailed. “You’re growing up so fast!”

“Why are you so embarrassing?” Yukine’s cheeks were slightly pink.

“I just love you, Yukine!”

“Well don’t act like such a baby about it!” Yato wailed some more in response but quieted down slightly as they pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

“So, what do you want to do today? Oh, I know! Why don’t we rob a bank?”

“Which bank?” Yukine asked, relieved Yato was no longer sobbing.

* * *

 

A deranged chuckle built slowly in the dark room, at first barely audible, then growing slowly in volume until it reverberated from the walls. He sat in front of the TV, eyes wide and fixated on the headlines scrolling beneath the face of Hiyori Iki, and they were saying that Yato had been up to no good. Over the course of a week he’d robbed banks, raided museums, and stolen untold amounts of candy from retail stores. It was almost time, almost time.

Soon he would be reunited with the God of Calamity, and they would reign together in evil with those beautiful eyes of depravity as their symbol. Nothing would be able to stop them. The preparations were almost complete, and then he would present himself to the God of Calamity as a humble servant and they would be together. He just had to prove himself.

* * *

 

Yato sat in his office, filled to the brim with riches and luxuries he never could have imagined in his youth, staring sadly at the drinking bird he had perched on a margarita glass. It’s dead black eyes seemed to bore into him, causing a deep-seated disquiet.

“Me too, little bird,” Yato said. “Always drinking, but never full. It’s never enough, and yet I can’t figure out what’s missing, what can fill the void? What’s your void like?”

“YATO!” Yukine exclaimed, bursting into the office looking peeved.

“Not now, Yukine, I’m locked in a deep existential debate with this dead eyed plastic desk toy.” Yukine paused, looking warily at the drinking bird Yato indicated.

“Umm… right. Are you feeling okay?”

“No!” Yato howled. “We have everything, but we don’t have anything!”

“I don’t understand, aren’t you happy?”

“I am sometimes, but other times… I don’t know, I thought I would be happier. Everything just seems so easy and pointless. I have nothing to fight against.”

“Do you- do you miss Metro Woman?”

“I don’t know,” he replied glumly, resting his cheek against the desk top.

“What about Kazuma? Yukine asked, “You haven’t seen him since the explosion, huh?”

Yukine knew Kazuma and Yato were childhood friends, that Kazuma had close to the same function for Bishamon that Yukine had for Yato, the guy behind the computer, putting out fires and taking care of things. He also knew that their friendship was a secret from Bishamon, but that was it. He’s never met Kazuma, only heard about him, and Yato got dodgy when asked about his past.

“I should have expected this, him disappearing. He’s probably devastated, he loved her more than anyone.” There was a certain sadness in his voice as he said this. “He won’t want to be friends with me after I killed her.” Yukine sat gently in the seat across from Yato.

“I’m sorry about Kazuma, but I’m still here,” he said quietly. Yato blinked his misty eyes until Yukine’s face came back into focus, sighing morosely.

“You’ll just leave me too, like everyone else.”

“I’m not going to leave you, Yato.”

“Sure, you will, you’ll start going to school and you’ll make a bunch of friends and see how great it is to be normal and you’ll leave me. The new semester starts in a few weeks.”

“I’m _not_ going to leave you for a bunch of school kids. Besides, you said it yourself the night we took over the city; I’m the kid with the God of Calamity. They’re all either going to hate me or be afraid of me or both. Also, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

“What?” Yato asked, looking up to see Yukine’s eyes fixed determinedly on the floor.

“I was wondering, do I _really_ need to go to school? I mean, it’s like you said, ruling a city is a learning experience and there’s a lot to do, I won’t be able to learn half the stuff I’m learning here at school. I could help you full time, and you could keep teaching me, or you could hire a tutor.” Yukine indicated the piles of gold in the corner of the room. “We can afford a private tutor now.”

Yato sat up, now feeling properly guilty for not having paid better attention to Yukine. He should have noticed there was something bothering him and asked about it instead of leaving Yukine to wrestle with it on his own. He’d been so caught up in his own mind he’d failed to notice the distress of the only person in the world who needed and cared about him. He crossed his arms, mentally kicking himself and observing Yukine closely now. He _did_ look genuinely upset. He was probably more concerned about being an outsider than he was letting on. Yato had kept the two of them isolated to protect them, out of fear that someone might take Yukine away, but now that he was in charge that was no longer a concern, and he needed to re-integrate Yukine into society, so he didn’t end up alone as an adult.

“Alright,” Yato said slowly, and Yukine’s face lit up, “we can look into a private tutor _for now_ , but we’ll talk about this again next semester. You need to socialize with kids your own age.” Yukine nodded, his previous relief more subdued, but he still grinned.

“Hey, I have a good idea! Why don’t we kidnap Hiyori tomorrow? That’s always fun!” Yato sagged again.

“What would be the point?”

“Oh, um... I don’t know.” There was a long silence before Yukine stood and announced that he was going home, and to bed.

* * *

 

“This is Hiyori Iki, reporting to you live from a city without a hero. Coming up next: Are you ready to be a slave army? What you need to know.” She made a ‘cut’ gesture at her camera girl, Yama, and sighed.

“That’s it for tonight, Yama.”

“Do you need a ride home?”

“No, I’ll find my own way, thanks.” Hiyori passed her the microphone and smiled, taking a few extra steps up towards the museum.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure, don’t worry about me.” She turned and walked the rest of the way up the stairs to the museum and entered with her eyes and heart downcast, then took the elevator up.

* * *

 

Yato, restless and downtrodden in spirit got up from his desk and left the office, brushing crumbs off his Capyper pajamas as he went. It was time, he decided, to destroy the Metro Woman Memorial. He could no longer tolerate it standing there, spinning endlessly, mocking him; but first he would go and say goodbye, because that was only proper. _I don’t need to change clothes_ , he thought, _there won’t be anyone there._ He instructed his brain bots to set everything up for the explosion and set about finding some flowers to bring; it was only proper.

It took several minutes to walk there, and he regretted not changing shoes, at least, but by then he was closer to the museum than he was to home or city hall, so he might as well just keep going. He ascended the stairs to the Metro Woman museum, where Hiyori had just signed off for the night, entered the museum with eyes and heart downcast, then took an elevator up.

* * *

 

Hiyori stood leaning against the railing on the skywalk, staring hopelessly at the impassively face of Metro Woman.

“I wish you were still here,” she said. “Without you the whole world has turned upside down; there’s no one to stop evil from running rampant in the streets!”

* * *

 

“I’m so tired of running rampant in the streets!” Yato whined, clutching a bouquet of yellow roses in his hands. “It’s just no fun anymore without someone to fight! It all feels so pointless and empty. I didn’t _mean_ to kill you- okay that’s not true I _did_ \- but I didn’t think it would actually work! Kazuma never told me your weakness was copper! Oh yeah, that was probably on purpose, huh?”

Her stone face rotated slowly away from him and he sighed, looking down at her ridiculously long hair. What was the point in keeping it that long? Didn’t it get in the way, and how much shampoo did she even _buy_?

* * *

 

“I just- I just wish I knew what to do!” Hiyori said. “Everything is so-ah!” Movement in the corner of her eye startled her and she spun around, bringing her fists up at the ready. “Oh, Manabu, it’s you. Sorry, I- I was just- you know… you probably think I’m crazy.”

“Um, Miss Iki, we’re closing soon,” he said shyly, shifting slightly behind his cart of books.

“Right,” she said, “sorry. I’ll just be a few more minutes.”

“Alright,” Manabu said hesitantly. He pushed his cart around her and walked in the direction of the other elevator.

“-bye,” a voice echoed, and Hiyori jumped. That hadn’t been Manabu, it had come from the other side of the skywalk, was there someone there?

“Hello?” She called out, and got no response.

* * *

 

“ _Shit_ ,” Yato hissed. “Why is Hiyori here?” He looked down at himself, taking in his fuzzy Capyper slippers and matching pajamas. He couldn’t let her see him like this, she barely took him seriously as it was. She called out again, but this time her voice was closer and to his right. he turned and sprinted left. When he was about to make it to the elevator he ran into something and crashed to the ground. Panicked, he sprang to his feet, only to see a terrified young man standing in front of him, looking like he was going to scream.

Without thinking Yato pulled out his dehydration gun and shot him, snatching the blue cube out of the air and tucking it into his pocket before sliding his watch face to three o’ clock and crouched behind the cart, the image of the man warping over him.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

Hiyori’s voice was right in front of the cart now. He climbed to his feet, pretending not to have noticed her.

“Oh, Manabu, it’s just you, you really scared me. Again.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Hiyori,” Yato, as Manabu, replied. He abandoned the book cart and slipped past Hiyori to the elevator and pushed the call button rapidly behind his back, looking nervously at the countdown still ticking on his watch. He’d activated it just before Hiyori had called out to him.

“Well, thank you for letting me stay,” Hiyori said, following him.

“Look,” he said nervously, “I wouldn’t stay here for more than two minutes and thirty-seven seconds if I were you. We’re um, having the walls and ceilings removed.” He winced. _Idiot._ The elevator arrived, and he practically leapt in, pressing the door close button as fast as he could, but Hiyori slipped in right next to him.

“Oh, that sounds like quite the renovation, I’ll catch a ride down with you then.” Hiyori was quiet for the next few moments, looking pensively out the glass door at the ever-rotating statue of Metro Woman in her suit and jacket.

“I kept thinking she was going to do one of her last-minute escapes,” she said eventually.

“Me too.”

“Ugh, I just wish there was some sort of reset button for the world, y’know?”

“I’ve looked into the reset button,” Yato moaned. “The science is impossible!” The elevator halted and Yato vacated, head hanging.

“Oh, Manabu,” I didn’t know you had a head for science!”

“Metro Woman is gone and there’s no one left to challenge the God of Calamity!”

“Oh, Manabu, don’t worry, as long as there is evil there will also be good to fight it!”

“I wish,” he said morosely.

“I believe that someone is going to stand up to Megamind!” Yato restrained his grimace at the name.

“Do you really believe that?”

“Yeah! It’s like people always say, heroes aren’t born, they’re made!” A light bulb went off in Yato’s mind, and he felt his spirit soar.

“You’re right! All you need are the right ingredients!”

“Like bravery, selflessness, and determination!” Hiyori said.

“Sure!” Yato agreed, turning his back on her and grinning at the large DNA model on display behind him. “And a smidgen of DNA,” he murmured. He turned and lifted Hiyori into the air, spinning her around in joy. “I think we should run!” He said, placing her back on the ground and dragging her out of the museum, one eye still on the timer on his wrist.

He saw her into a cab and waved brightly at her as it pulled away. When it turned the corner, he switched his watch face and the illusion of Manabu dissipated. He turned toward the museum.

“On to the future-” The museum exploded, interrupting him, and he scrambled back hastily. “Ahh! Ah! I’m too close! Too close! I’m very much afraid! I hope no one is seeing this! Eek!”

* * *

 

Rabo narrowed his scarlet eyes suspiciously, pressing closer to the wall concealing him. He didn’t like the scene he’d watched through the glass doors of the museum at all. Yato had seemed very friendly with that reporter woman, were they seeing each other? That wouldn’t do, not at all. Having weaknesses like a lover and a child were not suitable for a God of Calamity. She would need to be eliminated, though perhaps _she_ wasn’t the problem. Yato was soft. Rabo cursed himself for not seeing it sooner, but it was the truth. It was the orphan. That _child_ Yato had taken in was making him soft. That little boy had bewitched Yato. He needed to be dealt with.

 


	4. I am Not a Coward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Rabo is kinda a lunatic beware

It took Hiyori a few moments to remember why she’d woken up in such a good mood. _Oh,_ she thought, _that’s right._ _Manabu_. Their conversation yesterday was coming back to her, as well as her motivation to take a more active role in defeating Megamind. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, hating that it was time to start the day but excited about the possibilities. Still, she wished she had more time to sleep. _Where do I start? There must be some way to defeat him, some strategy. Does he have a weakness, like Metro Woman?_ She swung her legs off the bed and stood, stretching.

Her thoughts were quiet while she brushed her teeth, but when she leaned down to spit a thought hit her: she had been to his lair! She had watched the observatory explode through the sky light, meaning she at least had a direction to start with. She rinsed her mouth out and called Yama, she had some investigating to do.

* * *

 

“Are you kidding me?” Yukine asked, staring incredulously at Yato, the box of doughnuts in his hands forgotten. Yato looked like a paranoid conspiracy theorist, eyes wild and lined with lack of sleep, hair hanging half out of his ponytail, and the same rumpled pajamas he’d been wearing yesterday. “Why the hell would you want to _create_ a hero?”

“So, I can have someone to _fight,_ Yukine! It’s what I’m good at, it’s the only thing I know how to do!”

“You know how to knit.”

“That doesn’t count!”

“And crochet, and sew, and draw, and bake, and weave-”

“Those are only hobbies, Yukine!”

“Well if you’re bored you can start pursuing your _hobbies_ , don’t create a hero to ruin everything we’ve worked so hard to build!”

“I’m a villain with no hero! A yin with no yang! A rebel without a cause!”

“You’ve never seen that movie, Yato.”

“I have no purpose!”

“I’ll say,” Yukine muttered.

Yato narrowed his eyes at Yukine, annoyed, and Yukine glared back unapologetically. There was a long silence where they stared at each other. Eventually, Yukine caved. “How are you going to do it then?” He asked, exasperated. Yato’s eyes lit up again, and he turned towards the nearest board and splayed his arms grandly.

“I’m going to give someone- I don’t know who yet- Metro Woman’s powers!” He cartwheeled over to another board and landed in a full split. Yukine wondered vaguely how long he’d taken to choreograph this presentation. _No more caffeine for him._ “We are going to train that someone to become Metrocity’s new hero!” Yato climbed to his feet and vaulted up a ladder so fast Yukine feared he would fall. He shouted in alarm as Yato hooked one of his feet through a rung and turned upside down, pointing at one of the papers that hung from the ceiling with a red string and a clip. “ _Then_ , I’m going to fight them in an epic battle of good versus evil!” Yato unhooked his foot and backflipped to the ground, nailing the landing. “Then everything will go back to the way it should be!”

 _Even if he is an idiot, he’s certainly athletic,_ Yukine thought, mind still reeling from that presentation. He realized Yato had still not answered his question.

“Okay, so that’s the plan, but _how_?”

“Follow me!” Yato cried, knocking the freshly purchased box of doughnuts onto the ground and dragging Yukine by the hand over to a white coat that was tacked onto a corkboard. “Look! Look!” Yato said. “Metro Woman’s cape! Do you see what I see?” He pulled over a standing magnifying glass and focused it on the cape, Yukine looked through it dubiously.

“Um, dandruff?”

“That’s right!” Yato shouted, seizing Yukine by the shoulders and shaking him in excitement. “DNA! From this we will extract the source of her awesome power!” Yato brushed a few pieces of dandruff into a petri dish and placed it into a large machine.

“Yato, I think this is a bad idea.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Yato, I’ve been watching you get your ass kicked for two years, I think I know what I’m talking about.”

“No way! You just think you do! I’m telling you that you only think this is a bad idea, but it really is a _good_ idea for the greater good of bad!” He flipped a switch and the machine started whirring, then glowed a vibrant gold.

“No! I’m telling you this is just a plain bad idea! It’s bad for bad and good for good, which is bad for us!” He took a moment to review that sentence in his mind to be sure it had meant what he wanted it too. The machine spat out a large glowing gold pill. Yato picked it up with long metal tweezers and carried it to a table where a big gun stood waiting.

“You don’t know what’s good for bad!” He carefully placed the golden pill into the chamber and slid it shut. There was a small whirring noise and the gun lit up, displaying the word _INFUSE_ written on the side.

“Yato I am telling you right now that you are going to regret this decision.”

“No way!”

“Even if you don’t right away, this new hero will be a person with free will and their own ideas about justice. If you beat them they might just keep coming back like Bishamon did. What happens when they eventually defeat you?”

“Yukine, you silly boy, that won’t happen, and even if it does I’ll just defeat them back!” _He makes it sound like a game of badminton._ “Look, if _I’m_ the one teaching them, I’ll know all their moves, and I’ll be able to anticipate their actions!”

“What if they come up with a new move?”

“That’s the exciting part!” Yukine stared disbelievingly at Yato. _He really is willing to risk it all, huh?_

“I BLESS THE RAINS DOWN IN AFRICA!”

Both of them jumped and looked down at Yato’s coat pocket, where the song was emanating from.

“What the hell?” Yato asked, reaching into his pocket and fishing out the flip phone. He gave Yukine a perplexed look and answered the call. “Hello?”

“Hello, Manabu? It’s Hiyori!”

“Oh hey, Hiyori!” Yato replied. He covered the microphone and whispered, “it’s Hiyori!” to Yukine, who rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I heard.”

“Well, Manabu, I just wanted to thank you for inspiring me yesterday!”

“Oh,” he replied, both surprised and pleased, “you inspired me too!”

“What’s she saying?” Yukine asked. He tried to press closer to hear what she was saying but Yato shoved him off, turning his back on Yukine and taking a few steps away.

“Great! Then you’ll help!”

“Help with what?”

“I’m going to take down Megamind!”

“Oh really?” He asked, turning to Yukine. “She’s so cute! How do you plan on doing that?”

“Um, Yato?” Yukine said, eyes fixed on something Yato couldn’t see. Yato ignored him.

“Well I’m already off to a good start!” Hiyori said.

“Yeah what’s that?”

“I found his secret hideout!” Yato whirled to face the security screens; to his horror they displayed Hiyori’s face, lit with triumph.

“How did she find my hideout?” He bellowed, running towards the control panel. He winced, looking down at the phone in his hand. “Um. I mean, how did you find his secret hideout?”

“It’s the only building in the city with a fake observatory on the top!”

“ _Oh_ ,” Yato said, glancing at Yukine, who had buried hid face in his hands. “Well that’s unfortunate.”

“Don’t worry, there’s no way she’ll find the secret entrance,” Yukine assured him. A delighted gasp played through the phone speaker.

“There’s a doormat out here that says, ‘secret entrance!’”

“YATO!” Yukine snapped.

“I kept forgetting where it was!”

“Yato she’s going to find out everything! All our secrets!”

“Quick, hide! We’ll make her think no one is home!”

“That’s a horrible idea! She’ll just snoop through our stuff unchecked!”

“I can handle this, Yukine! Just hide in the closet and don’t come out!” Yukine froze, an unreadable expression clouding his face.

“I’m not going in there, Yato,” he said, his strained voice calling an image of a scared and angry little boy sheltering from the rain with a dumpster lid, clutching an old lantern to his chest.

_“Why aren’t you home? Where are your parents?” Amber eyes glared at him through sopping wet hair. The bruises on his face weren’t quite hidden by the fleece boggin he was wearing under his hood; and Yato guessed that there were more he couldn’t see._

_“I only have a dad, and I ran away because he locks me in the closet when he’s angry,” the little boy declared proudly, his chin jutting out defiantly even in the pouring rain._

“R-right,” Yato said, regretting his callousness. “Just hide in the invisible car and turn on the invisibility booster then.”

“Yeah,” Yukine replied, still sounding strange. He took the car keys distractedly and climbed into the car, curling up in the backseat. Yato cursed himself and hurried to the door, thinking that he could check on Yukine once Hiyori was gone.

He switched his watch face to project Manabu’s image over himself and hid. The door opened, and Hiyori peered around the room carefully before entering. Quiet as a ghost, Yato slipped around her and caught the edge of the door. He swung it open like he had just walked in and pretended to breathe hard.

“Hiyori!” He said, placing a hand on his knee for effect. She spun around, eyes wide with alarm, then relaxed as she spotted him, disguised as Manabu.

“Oh, it’s you, Manabu. How did you get here so fast?”

“Uh…” _crap,_ he thought. “Oh, I was uh- speed walking in the neighborhood when I got your call!”

“In a blazer?”

“Yes.” Hiyori blinked at him, then shrugged.

“Whatever suits you I guess,” she said winking at him, he grinned back.

 _Finally, someone who appreciates my love of puns._ He glanced over at where he knew the invisible car was hiding Yukine and smirked, in his mind’s eye he could very clearly see Yukine rolling his eyes in exasperation.

“It’s not important.” Yato said, “Look, I’d better take the lead with this. Here, let’s go that way, it looks exciting!” Hiyori glanced at it dismissively.

“It says ‘Exit.’”

“Yes, the abbreviation for the word ‘exciting.’”

She walked straight to the big red curtains he had been trying to steer her away from and tossed them to the side, making a sound of wonder when she saw everything laid out before her. She whipped out her phone and started snapping pictures. He bit his lip, wanting desperately to knock the phone out of her hand, but knowing it would blow his cover.

She saw the defuser gun lying on a nearby table and picked it up, glancing over it briefly before aiming it in front of herself. Yato screamed internally.

 Hiyori kept walking. He ducked around a large cabinet and transformed back into himself before leaping out in front of Hiyori.

“Ahh! Give that back! It isn’t yours!” He took hold of the gun and tried to wrench it from her grasp, but she had a surprisingly strong grip. They wrested the gun back and forth several times before finally she tore it from his hands.

“Tell me what you’ve done with Manabu!” Yato scoffed, crossing his arms.

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll find out what this weird looking gun does!” Yato froze, then raised his hands in surrender.

“A-alright. I’ll get him, just _don’t_ shoot that gun.”

* * *

 

Rabo stalked silently around the perimeter of the secret lair, brooding. He’d seen the camera girl out front, tittering nervously in front of the not-so-secret-secret-entrance. Rabo knew from his previous reconnaissance missions that she was standing in full view of more than one security camera. Multiple trips over several months had given him an extensive knowledge of the God of Calamity’s security system.

The secret lair had been set up in a seemingly abandoned old building that looked just like other rundown buildings at first glance, but upon closer inspection it sported a hidden security system, well-oiled doors, and unbroken windows.

The reporter woman had gone in some time ago. Rabo was certain that she’d been killed and disposed of by now. It was only a matter of time before her mangled remains turned up in a river somewhere if they turned up at all. Excitement built in his throat as he wondered how exactly the God of Calamity would end her. Rabo himself preferred dismemberment; nothing beat the exhilaration of painting the world red with a victim’s blood, of taking their bodies apart like a puzzle in reverse and leaving the pieces behind for someone else to solve. He knew some people on his home planet preferred cleaner methods, taking pleasure from the art of concealing poison in someone’s food and watching their loved ones panic when they collapsed.

Rabo had never dared enter the God of Calamity’s secret lair, there was no way to get inside without being caught on the security tapes, and he had to remain unknown to his deity, at least for now. He wondered if the lair looked anything like home, both he and the God of Calamity had been old enough to remember when launched from Yomi in the direction of Earth; Rabo wondered if the God of Calamity longed for the rolling hills and secretive people of Yomi as he did. The God of Calamity believed he was the last of his kind, never having known that Rabo had also escaped the consumption of their planet. Rabo himself thought he was alone until one dark and stormy night when he’d looked through a window to see a little boy with eyes made of malice cut down a grown man and stand, unaffected, as blood stained his hands. He had known in that moment it was his only purpose in life to serve this boy in whatever he endeavored to do.

Unfortunately, the boy had not been free as he was meant to be but was being controlled by a man with the face of someone from Takamagahara, but the eyes of a Yomi assassin. Rabo stood in the shadows and watched as Yato grew into a man, rebelling against the oppressive rule of his father into his teenage years. As badly as Rabo wanted to assist in freeing him, he also wanted to stand back and watch as the boy grew strong. Stronger than his father, than his weak-willed sister, than everything around him until he was the strongest thing on this rotten planet. And watch Rabo did. No matter what happened he burned bright and fierce with rage and darkness, a snake waiting for the right time to strike.

Unfortunately, that _woman_ from their sister planet had also been saved, regrettably landing on the same planet as he and the God of Calamity. She had done nothing but give Yato trouble, blocking him when he should have been ascending to a throne he would carve out of flesh and bone and sit upon as this pathetic world’s rightful ruler.

He longed to enter the lair, to throw himself at the God of Calamity’s feet and pledge his allegiance, but he must not do so prematurely. The Yomi were suspicious in nature, and if he did not proceed with caution he could be felled by the very hands he so adored. No, he would have to prove himself first, as not only loyal, but worthy to serve the God of Calamity; and once he did so they would be unstoppable. No earthen weapon could stand against them, and no human warrior could ever be a threat, not to their bodies and not to their weapons, forged on their home planet with Yomi steel.

He’d seen Yato with his, in fact it was never out of his reach, and that was how Rabo knew that The God of Calamity had never forgotten his origins. 

* * *

 

“Let go of me you evil overlord!” Yato cried, pretending to strangle himself with his own studded glove, suddenly glad he’d watched all those YouTube tutorials on ventriloquism as he replied to his own cry, but this time in his own voice, not Manabu’s. “Never!” Hiyori’s eyes were wide with alarm as she watched the fake wrestling match, the fact that he was alone being concealed by the door to the cellar where he kept his arts and craft supplies.

The plushies he’d been unable to sell at the arts and crafts fair shortly before his arrest stared at him with judgmental eyes. _What are you doing, Yato?_ They seemed to ask. _I’m not entirely sure, this just sort of happened,_ he told them.

“Manabu!” Hiyori cried as Yato once again dove a few steps down and became himself once again before bursting back out, his arm still made to look like Manabu’s and wrapped around his own throat. _This might be more trouble than it’s worth_ , he thought. His heart was pounding, and he knew that he was almost out of gas, so he made one more switch before flinging himself out of the cellar backwards and hitting a wall, as Manabu. Hiyori ran to his side, face etched with concern.

“Are you alright?” She placed a hand on his cheek and gently pulled his face towards her, inspecting him carefully for injuries.

“I tried to defeat him, but I couldn't! He’s just too fantastic!”

“It’s alright, Manabu, you did the best you could.” She took his hand and pulled him to his feet, her hand warm in his. When he was up he reached for the gun.

“Here let me carry that heavy looking gun for you.”

“I got it,” she said, shrugging him off and walking back towards the main room, apparently determined to find out what he was up too. On the bright side she was walking in front of him, so it would be easy to slip away and turn back into himself again, on the bad side she still had the infuser gun. _Here we go again,_ he thought, peeling away from her, then spotting a ladder and getting a better idea.

As he was climbing he could practically hear Yukine screaming silently that this was a bad idea, even though he was invisible to Yato at the moment, Yato had a very clear mental picture of what Yukine’s expression must be like. No matter, he would show that pesky Yukine voice inside his mind. He _knew_ this would work. When exactly had Yukine’s become the voice of reason to him? _Ah well, it doesn’t really matter,_ he thought. Yato waited for Hiyori to come into his line of fire, switched his watch so he was himself again, and leapt off the ladder.

A battle cry tore from his lips as he plunged through the air, eyes locked on Hiyori and the gun in her hand, Hiyori almost jumped out of her skin, swinging the gun up and pulling the trigger at him in her alarm.

Yato shouted and rolled through the air, eyes on the bullet, which seemed to be travelling in slow motion towards him. He kept his eye on it as he twisted out of the way, watching it miss him by inches. He barely had time to be relieved before the horror that his one shot had just been wasted dawned on him, and he hit the ground rolling and came up on his knees as he watched the bullet enter the air vent and bounce all the way through to the outside where a startled cry of pain let him know a target had been found.

There were several moments of silence where they both stared at the wall, then Hiyori whipped her head around and Yato believed in the devil, because he saw her in Hiyori’s eyes. Without thinking he got to his feet and fled, hoping to get enough of a gain on her he could turn back into Manabu, so she wouldn’t hurt him, she might even touch his face gently and ask if he was okay again. He ducked behind a wall and switched his watch face; when he turned the corner, he saw that she hadn’t chased after him after all, but sprinted towards the door labeled exit, and was reeling over the large pit containing his alligators.

Yato sprung forward and seized Hiyori’s wrist and yanked her away from the edge. She slammed into his chest and the two of them tumbled to the ground. Yato winced, thinking he may have handled her fragile human body too roughly. He scrambled out from underneath her and seized her around the waist, lugging her out of the building, this time being more careful not to grip her too tightly. He needed to remember to take care with Hiyori and Yukine, their bodies weren’t as strong as his and he could end up accidentally hurting them.

Yato sprinted out of the lair full speed, Hiyori still too stunned to do anything as he bounded through the fake wall and into the street. They startled a woman holding a camera, who Yato guessed was with Hiyori since she was standing next to a news van with the channel 74 logo on the side.

“It’s okay, I don’t think that the God of Calamity will follow us out here,” he said before Hiyori could get her bearings. He set her on her feet and took a few steps back. “Sorry, did I hurt you when I grabbed your wrist?”

“Not really. It’s better than being eaten by crocodiles anyway.” He resisted the urge to remind her they were alligators, not crocodiles.

“Are you sure? You might want to get an x-ray at least,” he insisted.

“If it swells up I’ll go.” Yato nodded, satisfied. He looked at the woman with the camera. She had been watching their exchange with some confusion. An idea hit him.

“Hey, have you seen anybody around here? I thought I heard somebody shout.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” Hiyori said. “I tried to shoot Megamind with that weird gun, but I missed and someone outside shouted like it hit them. It wasn’t you was it, Yama?” The woman, Yama, shook her head.

“No, and I haven’t seen anyone else out here either. But, um, who are _you_?” She looked at Yato.

“Oh, this is Manabu, my, um, partner.” Yato perked up slightly, concealing a smile as a light and warm feeling spread in his stomach. _Partner, huh?_

“Yeah, I am,” he agreed.

“Since when do you have a partner?” Yama asked.

“Since last night.” She turned back to Yato, “Listen, I had better get back to the station. I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?” Yato nodded, speechless, and waved idly as the van pulled away.

_A partner._

“Yato, hello? Hello, are you there?” Yukine’s voice snapped him out of his reverie and Yato lifted his watch to his mouth.

“Yeah, sorry. Hiyori is gone now. Do you have any footage of who our hero gun hit?”

“You should probably come in here, this is weird.”

“Alright, on my way,” he said, still feeling a little dazed, the word partner still drifting around in his head.

 

* * *

 

Rabo got to his feet, holding tightly to his nose. _What the hell was that_? He’d have thought a bee flew up his nose if the impact hadn’t have knocked him flat on his ass, which was not an easy thing to do to a warrior of Yomi. He had stumbled home, moving with none of his usual grace, hardly able to see where he was going but knowing that he couldn’t be caught outside the God of Calamity’s secret lair in this state. First impressions were everything.

He got even more strange looks than usual from people on the street and he glared at them around the hand he was using to clutch his nose, encouraging them to duck their heads and keep moving. He knew he must make quite a sight, staggering down the street like a drunkard where he usually tried to fly under the radar, but he was almost home.

The stairs gave him trouble. His building did not have an elevator and he was on the fifth floor, forcing him to clutch at the guard rails like an elderly woman. He managed it, though not without bruising his dignity, making it into his apartment only to crash to the ground immediately, cursing loudly, stumbling over some rubbish that was left on the ground.

 _Damn it._ He was beginning to feel woozy, to top it all off, and his body temperature was rising rapidly. _What the hell did I get hit with?_ His vision blurred then went dark, barely giving him enough time to think that this might be the end of him.

 

 

He opened his eyes some time later, though he couldn’t be certain how much time had passed. He climbed to his feet, wrinkling his nose at the faint scent of burning. _What happened?_ He felt good, better than he had expected, better than he had in years, maybe ever. He felt stronger as well, and a quick check of his body for injuries revealed to him muscles that had _not_ been there before. Without even meaning too his feet lifted off the floor and he hovered a few inches off the ground. No, not hovered, flew.

As what had occurred dawned on him a quiet chuckled rose from the depths of his soul and grew slowly from a little seed to something writhing that consumed him.

He had a plan.

 


	5. Never Turn Down Free Food

“Yu-Yukine?” Yukine turned around at the sound of his name. The crowd brushed carelessly by, no one recognizing him. He searched for the person who had called his name and was surprised when his eyes landed on a brunette pushing through the crowd, waving merrily.

“Oh. Hey, Hiyori,” he said hesitantly, unsure how warm a greeting was due. He opted for a half smile and shrug, and she didn’t seem offended by this, so he guessed it was the right move. “Um… how’ve you been?”

This had never happened before, and Yukine found himself feeling awkward. Were they supposed to exchange pleasantries? Death threats? Ominous promises of evil doings to come? Hiyori, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be feeling any awkwardness at all and was looking at him like she’d just won the lottery. The look in her eyes made him think she knew just how she was going to set about tearing down his walls and dissecting his secrets.

“As good as can be expected, I guess,” she said.

“Why what happened? Oh, yeah. You mean us. We happened,” Yukine replied sheepishly.

“So, what have you been up too?” Hiyori asked, and Yukine’s fears were realized, she _was_ fishing for information. He quickly decided on a way to deflect her question.

“Less than you, did you find what you were looking for when you broke into our lair?” Hiyori grinned mischievously.

“That is yet to be seen,” she said mysteriously. Yukine narrowed his eyes.

“You know going up against the God of Calamity will only get you hurt, Hiyori. You don’t want to know what he does to people he sees as a threat.” Despite the two of them technically being enemies, he couldn’t help but like her and he didn’t want to see her get hurt. He especially didn’t want to see Yato do it.

“I was there the day he killed Metro Woman too, Yukine.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he said darkly.

“You sound like you’re talking from experience.”

“I am.”

“What experience would that be?” Yukine didn’t respond. “I see Yato has taught you how to keep secrets.”

“Actually, I learned that all on my own,” he replied, then added dryly, “if anyone needs help keeping secrets it’s _him_. That doormat that said, ‘secret entrance’ that was his work.”

“Okay, you may have a point.” She grinned down at him and he felt the corners of his mouth quirk in response, the tension broken. “You know what?”

“What?” He asked suspiciously.

“Why don’t we get lunch together? I don’t see any reason why we can’t be friends.”

“Except that Yato killed someone you liked, and I helped so now you’re hellbent on revenge.”

“That’s all in the past,” she said breezily. Yukine frowned at her, wondering if she thought that this was working on him.

“I also kidnapped you a lot.”

She shrugged as if this was immaterial and Yukine’s frown deepened. He remembered her words from right before he had hit the switch that spelled Bishamon’s end. _You don’t have to do this! Whatever Yato has on you, I can help!_ Was it possible she was still convinced he was a captive and she was trying to rescue him? Did she think he didn’t know what he was doing when he aligned himself with the God of Calamity? Yato had never forced him to do anything. Other than killing the spiders that is, but Yukine could forgive that.

“I know!” She exclaimed, “why don’t we have lunch together?”

“Um… I don’t know…”

“Oh, come on, it will be fun! I’ll pay,” she added, in a tone that said she knew this would convince him. He may be rich now, what with all the banks he’d robbed recently, but it was hard to let go of penny pinching ways after they’d spent so long struggling to afford both food and a roof to eat it under.

“I have to ask Yato if it’s alright,” he said, pulling out his new phone. He’d switched to a smartphone now that he and Yato could afford one.

“So, you use android?” Hiyori asked mildly. Yukine rolled his eyes.

“Yato thinks the cloud is the government spying on him. As if the government cares that he still believes in Santa Clause.”

“Oh my God,” Hiyori said, Yukine shot her an exasperated look; _now you see what I have to deal with._

_Yukine: hey, um, Hiyori just asked me to have lunch with her_

_Yato: COUGAR! SHE SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF HERSELF! YOU’RE THIRTEEN!_

_Yukine: Not like that!!! OMG, I think she wants to try to get info about what she found yesterday._

_Yato: oh, well, if she’s paying see if she’ll get me food too._

_Yukine: you’re ridiculous_

_Yato: Never turn down free food, Yukine. It’s just wrong._

_Yukine: Whatever -_-_

_Yato: ;(_

_Yukine: ?_

_Yato: It’s a pirate!_

Hiyori watched, perplexed as Yukine hissed in annoyance and shoved his phone into his pocket, rolling his eyes.

“Um, is there a problem?”

“Yato is an idiot.”

“I already knew that.”

“He says it’s fine, though.”

“That’s great!” Hiyori exclaimed. She took him by the arm but gave him a confused look when her shoulder bumped into him. “What is that?” She asked, poking him curiously. Yukine sighed heavily and pulled the neckline of his shirt aside.

“Yato has been making me wear this stupid bullet proof vest everywhere I go. He’s convinced someone is going to come after me. We only have the one and it’s _so_ uncomfortable and hot and itchy, but he won’t let me out of the house without it. Sometimes he tries to make me wear it when I’m standing too close to a window.” He started walking again and Hiyori followed him, puzzled by this new bit of information.

Yato seemed to worry about Yukine as if he were his own son, and Yukine minded him almost like a father, which contrasted with everything she’d originally assumed about the two. More than anything with this lunch she was hoping to learn more about their dynamic, and in extension about Yato. She knew she’d need as much information as possible if she were going to take him down, and the best way to learn about Yato was through his only friend, Yukine.

“Um, what you said about Yato still believing in Santa, that was a joke right?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Yukine groaned. “That was the truth.”

“But he’s a grown man!”

“I couldn’t believe it either, but he’s convinced that Santa is real, but will never visit him because he’s bad.” Yukine paused. “It’s kind of sad, actually.” Hiyori had to agree.

“Why don’t you tell him the truth?”

“The same reason I won’t tell him Capypers aren’t real. It’d be cruel, I think it would break his heart.”

“He believes in Capypers too?”

“Yeah, he sleeps in Capyper pajamas, actually.”

“That’s…” Hiyori was at a loss for words. What was it exactly? Sad? Cute? Yato was the God of Calamity, scourge of Metro City, and yet he believed in Santa and slept in Capyper pajamas?

“So where are we gonna eat?” Yukine asked abruptly, then chewed on the inside of his cheek like he really didn’t want to ask the next part. “Also, Yato wants to know if you’ll buy him a plate to go.”

“Seriously?” Hiyori asked. “What a moocher.”

“I _know,_ ” Yukine said. “I had a part time job for a while and he used to steal my wages to buy useless shit he claimed were good luck charms to help us defeat Bis- I mean Metro Woman. It was so annoying.”

“You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you, Yukine?” Yukine nodded, and Hiyori imagined Yato sneaking into Yukine’s room to steal his money. Poor Yukine.

“So, what did you do before you met Yato?

“So where are we going to eat?” Yukine asked again. Hiyori almost repeated herself but was worried if she pressed Yukine would leave.

“There’s a diner I like a few streets down that is really good.”

“Cool,” he said, now refusing to meet Hiyori’s eyes. They didn’t speak again until they were seated in the diner and the waiter had brought their drinks.

“So, what was all that stuff hanging from the ceiling in the lair?” She asked, knowing she wouldn’t get an honest answer but wanting to start conversation again.

“Yato’s newest fan theory about Game of Thrones,” Yukine replied dryly. Watching people pass on the street outside. “Who was that dude you brought with you into the devil’s den?”

“Just a friend,” she said slyly. She did _not_ want Yato to track Manabu down and punish him for breaking in to his lair.

“Are we gonna have to move out?”

“What?” She asked. He looked back at her without turning away from the window.

“Are you going to report our location, or tell the cops? Do we need to move?”

“Oh, no. It’s not like it would do any good, with you guys in charge.”

“True.”

“And I like knowing where to find you.”

“I’d say that’s a little creepy, but as a general rule I always know where to find you as well.”

“Wait, what?” Yukine shrugged.

“Gotta know where to kidnap you from for Yato’s newest hair-brained scheme. Did you think I just randomly drove the streets until I found you?”

“Okay, you have a point, but it’s still creepy.” Yukine didn’t reply.

Hiyori settled back into the silence and watched Yukine watch pedestrians. He looked incredibly young sitting with his cheek resting on his fist, it was easy to miss when he was firing death rays at superheroes. He was calm and reserved, the exact opposite of Yato, and Hiyori thought that the two balanced each other out nicely, though they argued all the time.

“Yukine,” she said, and he turned his eyes away from the dreary day back to her, looking curious.

“Yeah?”

“Why do you do it? Why do you serve the God of Calamity? You seem like a smart boy, and a good kid, so why work with a supervillain? Do you even go to school?”

“Uh, no,” he replied, thinking that it couldn’t hurt for her to know. A group of school kids walked by the window, laughing loudly, and Yukine wondered how long Yato would allow him to lay out for.

“Why do you stay with him when he doesn’t even let you interact with people your own age?”

“It’s not like that!” Yukine protested, overcome with a sudden fierce desire to defend Yato. “Yato _wants_ me to go to school and have friends my own age. Home schooling was my idea, I wanted to stay with him!”

“He home schools you?”

“Yes!” Yukine said. “He does his best!”

“Why did you ask him to homeschool you?”

“Because he needs me!” Yukine said, feeding her the same false line he’d given Yato. “He’d never make it without my help, I don’t know how he managed before he took me in, he’s a total disaster!”

“He- took you in?” She asked. _Damn it,_ he thought. He hadn’t meant to let that slip. Yukine thought hard about how much information to give her, and if the fact he was adopted could help her in her quest against Yato. He was relieved when he couldn’t think of a way it would.

“Y-yeah. He did.” He glanced out the window, while they were talking the sky had opened and started to pour. _Just like the night he found me, huh?_

 

* * *

 

 

_“Why aren’t you home? Where are your parents?” He’d asked._

_Glowing blue eyes blinked curiously down at him through black hair dripping with rain, despite the tattered rag draped over his head. The dark and rain didn’t conceal his identity; Yukine had seen that face on the TV and newspapers: Megamind. He knew he probably should be afraid, but he couldn’t imagine this man would do anything worse than what his father did daily._

_“I only have a dad, and he locks me in the closet when he’s mad, so I ran away,” he had declared proudly, determined to impress the villain with his daring._

_“Is that so?” Megamind asked, crouching down in front of him, and bringing up his hands in a sign of peace. Yukine eased away slightly, ready to run. At the time Yukine hadn’t noticed the way his hands remained relaxed and non-threatening at all times. “Did he give you those bruises too?”_

_“And what if he did?”_

_“If he did then I would ask you if you wanted me to make him stop.” Yukine scoffed._

_“You can’t. You can’t even beat Metro Woman.” Megamind chuckled._

_“So, you_ do _recognize me, I was wondering. You’re pretty brave. And I_ am _going to beat Metro Woman, you’ll see!”_

_“Oh yeah, if you can, why haven’t you already?”_

_“Well because she has help! I’m all by myself but she’s got a guy named Kazuma talking to her over a Bluetooth telling her what to do! I haven’t beat her yet because it’s two against one! What I need is a brave and smart side-kick to help me out!” He was quiet for a moment. “You wouldn’t happen to know anyone like that, would you, kid?”_

_“My name is Yukine!” The God of Calamity smiled._

_“Well my name is Yato. It’s pretty brave to tell a supervillain your name, maybe you’re just the guy I need to help me beat Metro Woman!”_

_“I’m just a kid! How can I help you beat a superhero?”_

_“That’s just it! Don’t you know you learn better when you’re young? I can teach you everything you need to know and then you’ll be smart enough to help me!” Yukine was quiet, glaring suspiciously up at Yato, trying not to get his hopes up. This guy was a supervillain, there’s no way he’d want a kid on his team, he probably just got his kicks tormenting children on the side. “And if you come with me, I’ll stop your dad from hurting you anymore. If you want, I’ll even punish him for hurting you already. I’m not from earth, I’m stronger than any human, even if Metro Woman kicks my ass regularly.” That got Yukine’s attention._

_“Punish him how?”_

_“I’m a bad guy. If you want, I could kill him.” Yukine looked into the frozen blue eyes, and listened to the brutal tone, and for the first time in his life, he wasn’t afraid._

 

* * *

 

 

Yukine didn’t regret what he’d asked Yato to do. It had been over two years since that night, and he still remembered checking the newspaper every day until he saw his father’s obituary. They hadn’t found him for three days, but those three days had already been the happiest of Yukine’s life.

When he was little he’d always wanted to be a superhero, but what had superheroes ever done for him? It was a supervillain, the God of Calamity, who had found him in the cold and rain and rescued him from his own personal hell. It was a supervillain who had given him food and shelter without hesitation, like it was the natural thing to do. It was a supervillain who had stolen textbooks and workbooks and spent hours every day doing his best to teach Yukine everything he needed to know, even though he hadn’t had the best education himself.

He had answered _most_ of Yukine’s questions. There were still parts of Yato’s past that were a mystery to him, but he didn’t mind. Yato had told him so many other things; like he was now one of the four people alive who knew Metro Woman’s secret identity, and one of three who knew her side kick Kazuma was secretly friends with Yato, and that they hung out sometimes. He knew they had all gone to school together as children. He knew where Yato and Bishamon were from, and what it was like on Yato’s home planet, and that he didn’t miss it because his planet didn’t have Santa Clause or Capypers or Rihanna or Brooklyn Nine-Nine. He _also_ learned that Yato actually believed in fairy tales, which was _weird._

He remembered the first night he’d stayed with Yato, he’d expected Yato to laugh at him for being afraid of the dark, but he’d just smiled and left the light on, promising to steal a night light the next day. He remembered Yato camping out on the floor of his new room in a sleeping bag to make him feel safe and protected, and not scoffing when Yukine climbed into the sleeping bag after a nightmare.

Yato had been everything that people said a parent was supposed to be, including annoying, but Yukine put up with that because it was something he’d never had before. More and more everyday he’d found himself wishing Yato had found him sooner, saved him _sooner_ so that he wouldn’t have to be afraid of the dark, or enclosed spaces. He wouldn’t remember his father as this terrifying figure that had dominated most of his life but instead as a dream he could only recall when trying really hard. He wished Yato had been his father in the first place, instead of his savior.

“Do you like the rain?” Hiyori asked. Yukine looked back at her and shrugged.

“I don’t know if I _like_ it, but it reminds me of something good that happened to me.”

“What was it?” His gave her a long appraising look.

“It was raining the day I met Yato,” he said finally.

“How _did_ you meet?” She asked. He gave her that same considering look before answering.

“I was hiding in an alley under a dumpster lid to keep out of the rain. Yato just happened to walk by and saw me there. He had this tattered rag over his head for some reason, like that was gonna keep him dry.”

“So, what happened next?”

“He took me in,” he finished lamely.

“Were you ever afraid of him? He _is_ a super villain.”

“No.” Yukine thought about the unfamiliar warmth that had enveloped him as he looked into Yato’s cold and dangerous eyes. “Yato’s always made me feel safe.” His cheeks flushed pink. “But don’t you dare tell him I said that!” Hiyori gave him that surprised look again. It annoyed him. It’s not that he didn’t understand _why_ she was afraid of Yato, but she had spent a lot of time with him. She of all people should know he wasn’t the heartless killer everyone else thought he was.

Hiyori bit her lip like she wasn’t sure she wanted to ask the next question, or maybe she wasn’t sure he’d answer it.

“How often is he like… _that?_ Like he was when he killed Metro Woman?”

“Oh,” Yukine said, considering, “well, not very often, but it happens sometimes.”

“And it doesn’t scare you _at all_?”

“No.” Though Yukine’s expression was hard it was also honest. He wasn’t lying, but how could that be? That version of Yato was terrifying, spine chilling. Yukine’s eyes drifted back out the window to watch the rain pour.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Hiyori asked, and Yukine cracked a smile.

“Yeah, I do, it was my first job ever with Yato. I had been begging him to let me help for _months_ before he agreed, but only after I busted a computer monitor with a baseball bat.” Yukine chuckled, and Hiyori had to restrain her sound of alarm. _I had no idea he had a violent temper,_ she thought. “Man, you fell right into that trap,” he mused, reclining in his seat.

“How could I not?” She replied indignantly. “A little boy comes up to you and tells you he lost his mommy, you help him find her!”

“ _I know_!” He grinned. “That’s how I convinced Yato to let me help. But still he fussed over me for hours like a grandmother at a kid’s graduation. ‘Oh, my little Yukine is growing up and helping me take over the world! They grow up so fast!’ Keh.”

“I always thought that he kidnapped you,” Hiyori said, mainly because she knew he already knew this. He shook his head and took a sip of his drink. “Where are your parents?”

“Dead.”

“Oh, um. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said dispassionately. “I’m happy with Yato.”

“Well why wouldn’t you be, you have everything now, the whole city,” she joked. He furrowed his brow at her, taken aback.

“That’s not what I meant. I’ve always enjoyed being with Yato, even when we were poor, and he was stealing my money.” _What did Yato do to make him so loyal?_

“Do you really love him that much?” Yukine blushed faintly, like he hated to admit it, then nodded. He looked quickly away and slurped his drink loudly. Their food was placed in front of them and Yukine began wolfing it down like he hadn’t seen food in a month. Hiyori raised her eyebrows at the way he scarfed down his food before tucking into hers much more slowly.

“So, Hiyori,” Yukine slurred through a mouthful of food. “Did you get the info you were digging for or was this a waste of your money?” He asked, eyes never leaving his plate.

“Uh, no, you know you didn’t give me anything I could use against him.” Yukine became serious suddenly, and Hiyori started at the severe look in his eyes. It was almost _scary_.

“You need to be careful, breaking into our place, bringing me here and digging for information. You need to back. Off.”

“You’re pretty loyal.” Yukine met her eyes levelly, and Hiyori observed the resolve in them. He was completely serious.

“You don’t stand a chance against him, Hiyori. Up until now we’ve been playing on easy, but now that he has the city he won’t easily surrender it. You have no idea what he’s capable of. I don’t want you to get hurt, but we won’t let anything get in our way.” His voice was colder and more threatening than she’d ever heard it, and she felt goosebumps raise on her arms.

“And who is going to hurt me if I don’t stop?” She asked coolly.

“Me.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Yeah. So, what about you? We spent all this time talking about me, so tell me about you. What made you want to be a reporter? What aren’t you a doc like your dad?”

“Well, I always looked up to the news reporter on my mom’s favorite channel when I was little. I liked the way that knowing what was going on seemed important and helpful to people, and I wanted to help people.”

“Doctors help people.”.

“True, but I don’t like to see people cry, and I would hate to have to be the one to make notifications of death.”

“That would suck. Do you like being a reporter?”

“I do, I like being the face that people can trust to tell them what they need to know.”

“Don’t you wish you were in a profession that got you kidnapped less often?”

“Are you saying my career is the reason you two kept targeting me?”

“Yep,” he replied frankly. “Yato is a big fan of your show.”

“Well, in that case, a little bit, but after the first four or five times it was less scary and more of a hassle. Have you washed the bag yet?”

“Um, I will get right on that.” Hiyori rolled her eyes.

“So, you say that Yato is a fan of mine, huh?” She asked, smirking.

“Yeah, he says that you’ve got spunk, but he does prefer the meteorologist on channel five.”

“That’s… interesting.”

“Do people stop you on the street like you’re a celebrity?”

“Sometimes, I’ve given a few autographs. Do people ever stop you?”

“No, most people don’t recognize me. I think Yato is leaning on networks to keep them from broadcasting my image, and if they do they’re too scared to talk to me. I’m the ‘kid with the God of Calamity’ which is one of the reasons him making me wear this Kevlar vest is stupid.”

“I never expected the God of Calamity to be a worrywart,” Hiyori said. Yukine scoffed.

“I’ve never met anyone who worries as much as he does. He worries that I don’t go to school, he worries someone is trying to kill me, he worries that if I watch a scary movie I’ll get nightmares even though that only happened _one time_ when I was eleven and now I’ll never hear the end of it!” Hiyori giggled.

“May I ask what movie it was?” Yukine looked like he was loathe to admit it.

“ _Watership Down_ ,” he said. “Yato thought it would be okay for me to watch because it was about bunnies and he was _so very wrong_.” Hiyori winced.

“To be fair, it wouldn’t be so bad if it hadn’t been _bunnies_ ,” Hiyori said reassuringly. Yukine nodded vigorously. The corners of his mouth crept up as he was taken by the memory. When he next spoke, he sounded far away.

“You know, the idiot watched it himself to see why I was so upset so we could talk about it and he _cried._ Then _he_ started having nightmares about it. We slept together for a week because it made _him_ feel better… and I guess it helped me too,” he added as an afterthought.

“You’re kidding,” she said in a disbelieving voice.

“I’m not! I don’t know how someone like Yato can get nightmares from a movie after everything he’s done. Plus, you should hear the stories from his home planet.”

“He talks to you about it?” Yukine nodded.

“A little bit.”

“What was it like?”

“I don’t know much to tell you even if I wanted too, you could probably learn more just from reading one of Metro Woman’s biographies, although Yomi and Takamagahara hated each other, so her information is stilted against the place.”

“They were twin planets, right? Rivals that hated each other,” Hiyori said, trying to recall. It had been a while since she’d read one of Metro Woman’s biographies.

“Yeah but from what I can tell they were both too young when they were sent away to understand why they were supposed to hate each other, not that they would admit it. They just knew the grown-ups hated the other planet, so they mimicked the adults and decided to hate each other as soon as they laid eyes on one another.”

“What about the sword he always carries?”

“From his home planet. His parents put that in his escape pod before they sent him away. Something about ‘A Yomi warrior should never be without their weapon.’ It’s probably the same for Metro Woman, her sword was definitely from Takamagahara. They’re both made of super strong metal that could only be found on their respective planets,” He looked back out the window at the rain and Hiyori groaned, remembering.

“Oh no! I didn’t bring an umbrella.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll ask Yato to come pick us up. Do you need to go to work or home?”

“Home, thank you.” A small part of her brain was telling her that getting into a car with a super villain was a very _bad_ idea, but the rest of her reminded that small part that he kidnapped her all the time anyway, so it made no difference. If he wanted to hurt her he would, and he wouldn’t wait for her to get into his car voluntarily. Might as well stay dry. Yukine pulled out his phone, rolled his eyes at whatever response he got, then put his phone away.

“So… Yato is still on about that free meal,” he said awkwardly.

Several minutes later they were sheltering under the marquee together, watching the road carefully for any distortions in the fall of rain that would indicate the invisible car. Yukine was the first to see it, exclaiming and pointing. Hiyori looked in that direction and had to squint to make out the raindrops splattering before they hit the ground. The invisible car stopped next to the curb and Yukine sprinted to the front door to hold it open for Hiyori. She slid into the front seat next to Yato while Yukine leapt into the back and shook his hair out.

“It’s really coming down,” Yato commented. “Seatbelts on!” Hiyori quirked an eyebrow at him. _How concerned for safety can a supervillain be?_

“I’m taking off this stupid vest now, Yato. It’s _horrible._ ”

“You won’t be saying that when it saves your life!” Yato snapped, looking harried. Hiyori had the impression that they had this argument a lot. She heard Velcro ripping and a dull thud as Yukine discarded the Kevlar vest.

“No one wants to kill me, Yato! No one even recognizes me!”

“Thanks for the ride,” Hiyori interjected, hoping to derail the argument so she didn’t have to listen to their bickering the whole way home.

“No problem,” Yato replied, though he raised his eyebrows at her expectantly.

“What?”

“He’s not going to put the car back in drive until you’re buckled, Hiyori,” Yukine said, clicking his own seatbelt into place. Yato nodded once, and Hiyori shook her head in disbelief.

“You are the strangest supervillain I’ve ever heard of,” she muttered.

“Safety first, Hiyori! More than half of roadway fatalities could have been prevented if a seat belt was in use!”

“He learned that when he was teaching me how to drive,” Yukine said, resting his arms on the back of their seat. “He doesn’t even have a license.”

“How am I supposed to get one? I’m a fugitive!” Yato said defensively.

“You could get one now, you’re Evil Overlord,” Yukine reminded him.

“Oh yeah.”

“You didn’t even get one in high school? Or did you go to high school?” Hiyori asked. She wasn’t sure if super villains valued education in the way normal people did. Yato met Yukine’s eyes in the rearview mirror and Yukine shook his head. _Don’t tell her that._

“So, what did you and Yukine talk about?” Hiyori sighed, another deflection.

“He didn’t tell me anything I could use against you if that’s what you’re wondering. You trained him well.”

“Nah, Yukine’s got natural smarts for that sort of thing, I already know he wouldn’t have told you something dangerous.” Yukine looked out the window, ears burning.

“It’s a good thing one of us does,” He muttered. Hiyori chuckle.

“Rude.”

“He did tell me that your sword is made from some special metal from your home planet though, and that it can’t be found on earth. Do you know what it’s called?” Hiyori asked.

“Actually, I don’t,” Yato replied, flicking his blinker to signal a lane change even though no one could see them. “I think I was told at one point, but I wasn’t paying attention; I only wanted to know how to fight with it.”

“Sounds like you,” Yukine commented.

“Do you _like_ earth?” Hiyori asked, wondering if the question was too personal, but evidently Yato didn’t think so.

“I do. The sweets are better here.” Hiyori giggled.

Yukine sighed and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes to the comfortable chatter. It was going better than he’d thought it would. The scene felt oddly familiar and foreign at the same time. He, Yato, and Hiyori spent a great deal of time together, but the atmosphere was different when Hiyori wasn’t being held captive.

“I’m surprised you let Yukine come to lunch with me,” she said.

“Free food is free food,” Yato replied. “Never say no to free food-”

“It’s just wrong,” Yukine finished mockingly.

“Don’t make fun of me! There are starving kids who would love free food out there!” Yukine was silent.

“It’s my understanding that Yukine would have been one of those kids if it weren’t for you.” Yukine was startled by how close to his train of thought Hiyori was. Yukine threw his hands up defensively when Yato shot him an alarmed look.

“It just slipped out! It’s not like she can use it against you.”

“You’re a riddle wrapped in a mystery, Megamind,” Hiyori said.

“It’s God of Calamity.”

“You say you’re a supervillain, and that you’re evil, but what evil overlord takes in an orphan from the street?”

“We’re almost to your apartment building, Hiyori,” Yato said.

“Why did you agree to give me a ride?”

“Because Yukine asked me too.”

“Would you do _anything_ Yukine asked you too?” She teased

“Yes,” Yato replied grimly. Hiyori noted his over serious tone to consider later.

“Except for letting me go outside without the Kevlar,” Yukine grumbled.

“That’s for your protection!”

They pulled up to Hiyori’s building and she hopped out of the car, thanking the two of them for the ride and relieved to be escaping the argument it seemed could not be deterred. After she was gone Yukine climbed over the seat and settled next to Yato, buckling his seat belt. Yato glanced over at him and pulled away.

“So what sort of questions did she ask? Do you think she has a plan?”

“It was hard to tell. I don’t think she knows anything, but I think she’s trying to come up with a strategy. You’ll know more than me after tonight though, won’t you?” Yato nodded.

“Whatever she knows I’ll find out as Manabu.”

 

 


	6. The Most Annoying Thing is When You Recognize Someone But Can't Remember Where From

****

“Who is this man that we have infused with god-like power?” Yato asked in a hallowed tone, scrutinizing the grainy security cam photo of the man who had evidently been hit with the power-infuser gun.

“Whoever he was, he was good,” Yukine said, leaning forward and squinting at the image. “He managed to get right in our front yard without getting caught on any surveillance cameras. Even as he was staggering away we only got this hazy partial on his face. It’s barely enough to run through facial recognition, even if we do we’ll just get a bung of partial matches.”

“He seems…”

“Familiar?” Yukine finished. “Yeah, I thought so too, but look at that hair, don’t you think we’d remember if we’d seen him before?”

“That’s true,” Yato said, eyeing the long silver hair hanging past the man’s knees. “Maybe we’ve seen him on the news? Hiyori does interviews sometimes.”

“That might be it, I’ll go over the footage of all the interviews she’s done tonight, they’re archived on the channel seventy-four website. You should ask her about it too though.”

“Good idea.”

“But don’t be obvious, you’re not as sly as you think.”

“I am so!”

“No, you’re not. Just be careful okay? And, is that what you’re wearing?” He scanned Yato’s outfit pointedly.

“What, I _like_ this outfit, it’s comfortable! And no! It’s not!” He crossed his arms defensively over his tracksuit.

“You look like a slob.”

“I do _not_!”

“You do so. Brown boots don’t match a black tracksuit.”

“Well whatever, it’s not what I’m wearing.”

“Good.” Yato scowled and looked back at the screen. He _did_ feel familiar, like a face he’d seen in a dream. There was only a shadowy haze when he tried to remember where they might have met.

It wasn’t necessarily the portion of his face that was visible on the screen, or even his long pale hair. His posture was familiar.

“Is there footage?” Yukine nodded and tapped a few keys, bringing up a new window. The recording of the man staggering away began playing on repeat, and Yato was certain. He cursed.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“It can’t be,” Yato breathed, leaning in closer like doing so might prove him wrong.

“ _What?_ ” Yukine pressed.

“I thought I was the only one left.”

“The only _what_ left?”

“I think this man is from Yomi.” Yato sat heavily and folded his hands, pressing his thumbs to his mouth and frowning.

“ _What?_ Are you sure? You said you were the last one!”

“I am. At least, I thought I was. I must be imagining things. No one else escaped the planet death.”

“Um, how do you know that for certain?”

“Well…” his voice trailed away. “Father said-” he stopped again. He tried not to talk about his past to Yukine. Or anyone, really.

“Your father? Like, the earth one?”

“Yeah, the earth one.”

“What happened to him? You never talk about it.”

Yato hesitated, observing Yukine. He was old enough to know. Truth be told he’d always been old enough to know, and despite wondering if telling Yukine would help him heal, to feel less alone, he’d kept his mouth shut, unable to face his own demons. Maybe it was time to let him know.

“I killed him.” A hood of understanding fell over Yukine’s eyes.

“Oh. That bad, huh?”

“That bad.”

“I BLESS THE RAINS DOWN IN AFRICAAA.” Both jumped in alarm. Yato slipped his phone out of his pocket and balked.

“Oh no! I’m going to be late!” He jumped to his feet and clicked his wristwatch into place. “Studying myself is going to be weird.”

“Don’t get upset over the negative reviews about yourself, remember you’re a civilian who doesn’t have any unusual knowledge about Megamind, and you don’t know your name is Yato!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it,” Yato said. “I’ll be good! I’m a master of deception.”

“You’re doomed.”

 

* * *

 

 

Yato clutched at his aching side as Hiyori’s laughter rang through the darkened library.

“That was such a funny story, and brilliantly told too! Now you tell one!” Hiyori gasped for air then took a few calming breaths and beamed at Yato.

“I had no idea you were so funny, Manabu,” she said, the light of their single lamp sparkling in her eyes.

“I had no idea you had such a nice laugh,” he said shyly.

He couldn’t be sure in the dim light, but he thought her cheeks might have flushed slightly. He sighed, and leaned back comfortably in his seat, returning Hiyori’s relaxed smile. They were alone, Hiyori was friends with the librarian and had convinced her to let them stay after hours, and the silence was a quilt that wrapped the two of them up and kept them warm.

Hiyori lifted her book and Yato was forced to meet his own glaring eyes, blazoned boldly across the cover of some stilted biography that dedicated most of its pages to worthless conjecture. He knew because he’d read it, just to be sure that they hadn’t found anything real on him. In fact, it was still on the bookshelf in his apartment, Yukine had asked about it on one of his first nights with Yato.

_“Why do you have your own biography? Isn’t that a little egotistical?”_

_“That’s a big word for a little guy,” Yato had teased. Yukine glared. “It’s important to know what your enemy knows, that way you can exploit their weaknesses.”_

_“Oh,” Yukine’s big amber eyes gazed up at him with wonder, and Yato warmed. He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder and pulled him into a side hug._

_“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you everything I know.”_

“There’s no use,” Hiyori growled, throwing her book on the table. Yato jumped, his nostalgic smile frozen on his lips.

“What’s the matter?” Probably she realized what he already knew, that that book wasn’t worth the paper it was printed on.

“Yato is too reserved! This book won’t have anything on him. I’m going to look in the books about Metro Woman, maybe she knew something the rest of us didn’t.” He bolted upright; Metro Woman _had_ known more than the rest of the world, and she probably hadn’t been as careful with his personal information as she had been with her own.

“W-wait, Hiyori!” He cried, reaching out futilely, but her hair was already whipping around the corner and out of sight. _This is bad,_ he thought. A few minutes later Hiyori came out with a large stack of books, all with references to Metro Woman on the spines.

“There’s no way that the books on The God of Calamity can tell me anything I don’t already know. Yato is too tight lipped about his past to have let anything that could help us slip.”

He thought about his earlier confession to Yukine, Hiyori was right. The only people who knew anything about his past were the ones who lived through it with him, and with Bishamon dead and Kazuma missing, he was the only one who could give her what she was after. Unless Metro Woman had already done so, and Hiyori was about to find it in one of those books.

“She told me once that the two of them went to elementary school together, but I kept that to myself. These might have clues about where they went to school, and we could use that to find info on Yato’s past and work our way forwards.” _Damn you, Bishamon. Why did you have to be so careless about our secrets? I should have killed you sooner._

“Um, didn’t you interview her a few times for your news show? Maybe we should watch those back first and see if she told you anything else and you just forgot about it,” Yato tried, panicking as Hiyori began flipping through the pages of one of the novels.

“She never gave real interviews, only comments. She may have made some comments to someone else that made it into one of these books, though. Focus on the ‘early life’ sections first.”

“Uh, sure thing.”

He reached out slowly and lifted a book off the stack before flipping it over to the back to read the book reviews. He racked his brain for other ways he could distract her, he’d been doing it all night. They’d chatted and joked merrily for hours, and Yato found himself enjoying the warmth of her smile underneath the soft light.

“Maybe we should start by going over what we already know. You tell it to me, and I’ll ask questions, and maybe it’ll jog something.”

“I don’t know, I’ve been over all of it in my head already.”

“Exactly! You’ve only been in your own head but saying things out loud can help. Besides, we’re more likely to get something information from someone who actually _knew_ them both than from a book by someone who just watches a lot of YouTube.”

“I guess you have a point. If I were someone else, I’d be my first stop when looking for information on Megamind.” Yato suppressed his grimace, forcing the corners of his mouth upwards.

“So, tell me what you know.”

“I know The God of Calamity’s real name is Yato, and that he hates being called Megamind.”

“What else?”

“I know he has a lot of old lady talents. He knits and sews and cooks, and he’s working on crocheting now.”

“Old lady talents?” Yato asked, eyebrow twitching.

“You know, the type of skill you’d expect your granny to have not the murdering Evil Overlord who took over the city.”

“Alright,” he replied through gritted teeth. “So, he’s named Yato and he has a lot of artisanal skills.”

“I know where his hideout is and that he doesn’t live there.”

“He doesn’t?”

“He has an apartment somewhere, but I have no idea where.”

“What about the boy who was with him the night he took over the city? A hostage?” Hiyori grimaced and looked at Yato appraisingly. His heart swelled. Was her hesitance an attempt to protect Yukine?

“Actually…” She started, reluctance evident in her voice, “He’s Yato’s adopted son.” His heart sang. Son was a loaded word for them, and neither used it. Maybe something he’d said to Hiyori had made her make the association? Had Yukine called him ‘dad?’

“He has an adopted son?” Yato asked, feigning surprise. “What do you know about him?”

“Not much. They’re fiercely protective of each other, and loyal. Not to mention, the boy is smart, I had lunch with him today and he didn’t give me a single thing that could help us.”

“You had lunch with the God of Calamity’s son?” He asked, arranging his face in what he hoped was an awed expression.

“Yeah, I ran into him on the street, and Yato said it was okay as long as I paid,” she rolled her eyes. “I didn’t get any useful information, but I did get the sense that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for Yato, and nothing Yato wouldn’t do for him.” Yato gulped but kept quiet, not trusting his voice at the moment. He cleared his throat when he realized she was waiting for a response.

“What makes you say that?”

“He threatened me.” _I did not!_

“The God of Calamity threatened you?”

“No, his son.” His jaw dropped. “Don’t worry, I can handle myself,” she said, misreading his expression. _I can’t believe I missed his second ever threat!_ He lamented, though his toes wiggled gleefully in his shoes.

“So, um, are you sure you didn’t get anything out of the lunch?” He certainly had gotten plenty.

“I mean, I learned plenty of useless information, like that Yato sleeps in Capyper pajamas, and that _Watership Down_ gave him nightmares.”

“He told you that?” Yato choked. _I’m going to kill that kid._

“And that’s it, I didn’t learn anything useful from my dinner with the God of Calamity’s son.”

Yato didn’t fail to notice that she hadn’t used Yukine’s name once. He was grateful, she didn’t have to protect Yukine like that, and it made Yato feel better to know that there was someone else looking out for him. Several minutes passed in silence where Yato daydreamed about the things Yukine might have said to make Hiyori seem so sure he was loyal when she exclaimed loudly, startling him.

“Here it is!” She leaned closer to the book, Yato followed suit, brows drawn and biting his lip. “Early life… the elementary school I attended closed due to a fire and I had to go elsewhere…” she read.

“Oh, did it? Aren’t there a lot of places that burn down?” He asked, speaking over the terrified screams that echoed in his mind across a chasm of years.

“Yes, but there’s no way a school burning down wouldn’t make the news! The library has archived newspapers, we just need to go through the ones from around when she was a kid!”

Yato checked his watch, hand creeping towards his phone. It was late, but should she find the address of his old school and decide to investigate he would have to send Yukine a 911 text to blow the place up before she got there, because only a portion of the school had burned, and he hadn’t bothered to remove his records.

“Come on, let’s go!” She said enthusiastically. This was the closest she’d been to a real lead all night, and the weight in Yato’s gut was telling him that she would find what she was looking for.

 

* * *

 

 

“Manabu come look at this!” The insistence in Hiyori’s voice made his heart sink. He dragged his feet to her microform, delaying the inevitable. She stepped aside, and he looked at the article that she had pulled up.

Yato’s chest tightened as he looked over the story. “Deadly fire at elementary school, child suspect missing.” He didn’t need to read it, he knew what it said, his eyes were drawn to the photo, however.

A fireman carried two ash covered boys away from a burning building. The ash on one of their faces was disturbed by tears, though smoke had clouded his glasses. The other boy’s face was blank. On anyone else the grownups would have interpreted it as a sign of shock, but in him they’d said it was evidence of guilt.

Who else other than this trouble maker could have started the fire, and who else other than the one who started the fire could wear such a calm expression in the wake of such a tragedy? No one noticed him trembling like a leaf. Yato couldn’t place the blame entirely on them, however, he _had_ admitted to it, but it would have been nice if even _one_ person hadn’t believed him.

He was surprised that even after all this time he had difficulty thinking about the events of that day. He went through long stretches of time where he thought he was over what happened, but perhaps here, in the safety of the darkened library accompanied by Hiyori’s fearless laugh, he’d started to feel like that helpless and trusting little boy again.

“I remember hearing about this when I was little, my mom cried when she heard,” Hiyori said after a while, “about six children died, and one of the students admitted to having set the fire intentionally, but they never caught him.”

“I remember it too,” he said, turning away from the microform, not meeting her eyes.

“Look at the picture again, the little boys that the fireman is carrying, I think one of them is Yato.” He looked again to satisfy her.

“It could be,” he said vaguely.

“It _is_ I’m sure of it. Yato _had_ to have set that fire. I always wondered what might have happened to him to make him so evil, but what if he was evil from the beginning? Metro Woman always said it, and here’s the evidence. He’s never named as in the papers as a suspect, but he’s in this photo, and the caption said he was one of only two children in the building that survived.” _Evil from the beginning, huh?_ He gritted his teeth against the bad taste in his mouth.

“It’s certainly possible,” he said quietly, looking back at the photo to a version of himself who was years and rivers of blood away.

“I know where the school is, Manabu, we should go over there right now and investigate!”

Panic thawed the chill that had settled over him and he floundered wildly for an excuse to not go. He’d never bothered to clean out the school, thinking that since no one knew he went there it was in no danger, maybe he’d also been afraid of what memories would be stirred by the crayon drawings and brightly painted walls.

“It’s awfully late, Hiyori, we should go home and get some rest. Anything that is there now has waited this long, and it can stand to wait another night.” She hesitated, then nodded.

“You’re right. We both need our rest. Tomorrow night it is.” _That’s a relief._

 

* * *

 

 

When Yato entered their apartment, he kicked off his shoes and dragged his feet across the room to the couch, where he plopped down face first.

“So, things went badly with Hiyori?” Yukine asked.

“Worse,” Yato groaned, turning his head to look at Yukine. “She found newspaper articles about the fire at my school. I was in the picture.” Yukine winced. “We’re going to have to head over there tonight and clear the place out, they have all my information there.”

“I made dinner for you, it’s in the oven to stay warm, you should eat before we go,” Yukine said, patting him idly on the head.

“Thanks,” Yato replied, watching as Yukine left the room to change out of his pajamas.

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay so we need to search your old classrooms, the office, the records room, and the teachers’ lounge, just in case,” Yukine said, swinging his flashlight around the darkened hallway.

“We need to erase every trace I was here.”

“No,” Yukine interjected. “If she finds something here that leads nowhere she might move on, we need to leave something that won’t tell her anything.”

“...like a coloring?” Yato asked.

“Sure, like a coloring.” _What a child._

Yato and Yukine split up to make the search faster, though Yukine was reluctant to separate, sensing Yato’s unease at finding himself here once again. The school had never reopened after the fire, becoming run down and abandoned. No one wanted to send their kids to a school where a student had maliciously set a fire and killed several of his classmates, never mind that he had stopped attending after that. The school was permanently stained with his sins.

Each of his steps disturbed the thick layer of dust, kicking it into the air. He pulled his tattered handkerchief up and wrapped it around his mouth and nose. It occurred to him that when he visited with Hiyori tomorrow the disruption of dust would make it clear someone had been here recently, but it didn’t matter, she couldn’t prove it was him. He wondered what he should leave behind for her to find; a truancy record perhaps? That he had been in and out of trouble his whole life would surprise no one.

When he pushed the creaking door open he was thrown directly into a time he thought he’d forgotten, and yet he could hear the laughing and crying and screaming like it was yesterday. Just over there is where he’d spent most of his free time- the time out corner. He’d slept under the teacher’s desk at night when everyone else was gone.

 _“Who’s there?”_ _A frightened voice asked, and Yato shrank further into the shadows. “I can hear you.” Yato held his breath as he listened to the feet patter gently around the desk. A small form came into view and crouched in front of him, green eyes peering curiously from behind lopsided glasses. “Yato?” The boy asked. “What are you doing here?”_

 His feet led him to the window facing the playground, where his eyes sought the hollow tree where he’d hidden his sword during school.

_“Wow!” Kazuma cooed, gazing down at the sword gleaming in the moonlight. “That’s so cool!” Yato nodded proudly. He’d never had someone he wanted to impress before, and his little chest swelled with pride as Kazuma gazed at him with eyes full of wonder._

_“My birth parents put it in the ship with me before they sent me away, everyone on Yomi had one! We were the strongest in the whole universe!”_

_“So, you really are from another planet, just like Bishamon!” Yato wrinkled his nose._

_“I don’t like her. People from Takamagahara think they’re better than everyone else. They’re rude and they look down on people from my planet!”_

_“I don’t think Bishamon is rude, she saved me from bullies just like you did. She says her parents said that everyone from Yomi was bad, but I don’t think you’re bad.” Yato frowned._

_“My dad says I’m supposed to be bad. He says that because I’m from Yomi I’m supposed to hurt people and says that it’s okay because people ask me to hurt people, so I’m making people happy, but I didn’t believe him so I ran away.”_

_“Yato, did your dad hurt you?” Kazuma asked, straightening out his perpetually crooked glasses. Yato was quiet for a moment before nodding. He glanced over his shoulder as if his father might be looming behind him, ready to punish him for telling._

_“You can’t tell anyone, it’s a secret.”_

_“Why?”_

_“Because it’s my fault! He hits me because I’m bad, and if people find out I’ll just be in more trouble.”_

_“I don’t think that’s right…” Kazuma said, sounding unsure._

_“Just think about it, when you get smacked by the teacher at school, don’t you get in trouble at home too?”_

_“Yeah…”_

_“It’s like that.”_

_“I don’t know, my parents never hit me. When I’m in trouble they won’t let me watch TV or play outside. Mom says you’re not supposed to hit kids.” Yato shrugged._

_“It’s different on Yomi I guess, and maybe on Takamagahara.”_

_“Why do you say that?” Kazuma asked. Yato’s jaw dropped as he realized what he said, and he leapt forward and shushed Kazuma._

_“It’s a secret! You can’t tell anyone, ever, okay?” Kazuma’s eyes widened and he nodded silently._

_“My dad is from Takamagahara, but he had to leave because he did something bad.”_

_“Really?” Kazuma asked, awestruck. Yato nodded. There was a long moment of silence. “Are you gonna live in the school forever, Yato?” He shrugged._

_“I don’t know, I don’t wanna go home because I’m scared of my dad, but I also don’t want to leave my sister Mizuchi there all alone.”_

_“You have a sister?” Yato nodded. “She’s better than me, though. She always behaves so she doesn’t get hit much. She wouldn’t come with me when I ran away, and she wouldn’t come to school either.”_

_“Maybe you should tell a grown up.” Yato shook his head._

_“The grown-ups never do anything.” Kazuma blinked, and Yato saw the concern in his green eyes, but ignored it._

Yato shrugged off the memory. He gazed down at the playground where he’d saved Kazuma from bullies and earning a lifelong friend in the process. He’d gotten a month’s worth of detention for beating up the other kids. The teacher had had to pull him off, he’d been using a stick to pummel them with, and they had to be hospitalized. The only reason he hadn’t been expelled was because Kazuma had pled his case. He was delicate and frail looking, with big eyes and even bigger glasses, and he’d already learned how to use that to his advantage. Even at that age he was smart as a whip.

Yato turned away from the window and scanned the wall, looking for class pictures he might be in. He found one right at his eye level. It had been before he and Kazuma had become friends, and Yato was shunted off to the side while the class surrounded Bishamon. Kazuma stood off to the other side, just outside the main group, he hadn’t fit in well either before Bishamon had decided to befriend him. He removed the frame from the wall and tucked it under his arm. He grabbed a few drawings with his name at the bottom corner as well.

Next, he sat down at the teacher's desk, noting how much smaller the place where he used to sleep seemed now that he was grown. He rifled through the drawers and found a few discipline slips and incident reports. One of them was about the time he had saved Kazuma from bullies. _What if he was evil from the beginning?_ Hiyori’s words from earlier echoed in his mind, and he slipped the incident report back where he found it. He turned to leave, then stopped. The report also named Kazuma as the child he’d saved, which was a real lead she could use to find out more about him. He took it back and replaced it with a few others.

He made his way to the teachers’ lounge, glancing down the hall to the principal's office. Yukine had offered to search that room, plus the counselor’s office where the rest of the records were kept, and Yato knew why. After he’d told Yukine they had similar pasts he wanted read Yato’s files to find out about his childhood. Yato let him do it because he hoped that Yukine would feel less alone if he knew Yato knew exactly what he was going through. There wasn’t much in the files, however, only enough to confirm what Yato had already told him.

There wasn’t much to be had in the teachers’ lounge except the echo of the thrill of wrongdoing. Turns out, there wasn’t much there besides a table for eating lunch and an armchair. He made his way to the principal's office next, thinking to help Yukine.

 

* * *

 

 

Yukine found the file with Yato’s name on it and smiled, slipping it from the cabinet and flipping it open. He glanced around guiltily, Yato was still in another room, so he started to read.

_Intermittent attendance. Student is absent for long periods of time and sometimes shows up to school with mysterious bruises._

“That sounds familiar,” Yukine mused.

_Student was caught sleeping in school, escaped before social worker could return him home._

_Student frequently has physical altercations with other students and sometimes experiences fits of rage where he breaks things._

“He really was just like me.” The door creaked open and he spun around, snapping the folder closed. “Yato!” Yato looked from Yukine’s guilty face to the file in his hand and gulped.

“Did you… find what you were looking for?”

“Um, yeah,” he replied. His eyes fell to the papers in Yato’s hands, and he could tell that some of them were covered in crayon. Yato looked around the room.

“The yearbooks,” he said, “I’m in them. We should take the ones from the years I was here.”

“We should also check the local libraries to see if they archived copies.”

“Good idea. But I can’t remember exactly which years I was here for.” He punched the glass out of the legal bookcase and grabbed a few yearbooks.

“It’s in your file.” Yukine opened it back up and checked the dates before grabbing the issues from the bookshelf. “So…” Yato tensed at Yukine’s loaded voice. “Your dad… he was, like mine?” Yato was silent for a long time, and when Yukine glanced at him he seemed like he was psyching himself up for what he was going to say.

“Uh, yeah,” he responded lamely.

“Oh.”

“He was also, um…” he took a deep breath, “from Takamagahara.”

“What?” Yukine exclaimed. Yato flinched.

“Yeah, it’s why he was able to…”

“Hurt you?” Yato nodded.

“And the school never helped?”

“No.” Yukine scoffed.

“They never did much for me either.”

“Actually, they tried to launch an investigation into your father, but he had connections. One of his friends stopped charges from being filed. I killed that guy too.”

“Um, thanks?”

“He deserved it.”

“How did you find out about him?”

“I stole all your files from your school, the trail stopped with him. They can’t file a missing person’s report on someone they can’t prove existed.”

“So, you _do_ something right every once in a while.”

“Rude.”

Yukine opened one of the yearbooks and flipped through it. “Holy crap.”

“What?” Yato asked, peering over Yukine’s shoulder.

“You were so cute, oh my God,” he tilted the page to see it better. “Is that Bishamon? And the boy standing between you two, is it Kazuma?” Yato nodded. “Wow.”

Yukine peered down at Yato’s young and innocent face. He was slightly disheveled but had a sweet smile as he held hands with a boy with lopsided glasses and a big grin, whose arm was linked with that of a girl with long blonde hair and a slightly grumpy expression, like she had only grudgingly agreed to be there.

“That was taken not long before the incident. Bishamon never liked me, but she tolerated me because I was Kazuma’s friend. Until the fire, that is.”

“We are _so_ keeping this picture,” Yukine said, grinning mischievously.

“No way!”

“Yes way! You stole all my baby pictures from my dad’s house so now we need some of you. Besides, this is good blackmail. If you don’t behave I’m sending it to Hiyori.” Yato looked horrified but didn’t protest as Yukine tucked the yearbook under his arm. He took a slow step to the side, hoping Yukine wouldn’t notice as he tried to hide the remaining ones behind his back. “Are there more? Give me those,” Yukine reached for them but Yato held them above his head.

“No way! You are _not_ keeping all these!”

“I _am_! For revenge! You stole all that embarrassing stuff after you killed my dad so I’m taking this stuff of yours!”

“But that’s not fair! How am I supposed to show your baby pictures to your future spouse if I don’t have them?”

“Well then _I’ll_ show these to _your_ future spouse. We’re keeping them! And I’m _framing_ a copy of the one with Bishamon and it’s going on the coffee table!” Yato groaned as Yukine snatched the yearbooks away from him and tucked them under his arm.

“You’re the worst.”

“Maybe I’ll hand some of your drawings on the fridge.”

“YOU BETTER NOT!”

 

* * *

 

 

In the counselor's office Yato found the report card that had been issued after he’d stopped coming; he’d received incompletes in every subject. Yukine found another file with his name on it and flipped through it openly this time. Yato supposed this should make him happy, he never would have been comfortable enough to snoop through his father’s things, much less while he was in the room.

“You sure got into a lot of fights, huh?” Yukine asked mildly. “They’ve got ‘behavioral problems’ written in red and underlined, look,” he held the folder out to Yato. Yato rolled his eyes and flipped a few more pages, then scoffed. _Suspected child abuse_ was written in the margin.

“Pathetic,” he said, pointing it out to Yukine. “I bet they never followed up.”

“What the hell? And I thought my school was bad,” Yukine said angrily, taking back the file and flipping a few more pages.

 

* * *

 

 

Rabo hid behind a tree in the darkened playground, taking the scene in hungrily. The God of Calamity was gazing out of the dirty window with a distant expression, those glorious blue eyes lit with moonlight. Here, in this place where he’d committed six murders, with the darkness a blanket of death and the silence the swan song of an era; Yato’s peace seamed threatening. It was like walking outside before a hurricane and being able to feel the chaos charging the air, waiting to be released. Yato turned away and Rabo shifted slightly to keep him in view. When Yato left Rabo was forced to crouch in the darkness and wait for him to reappear.

In the stillness he found himself seething with hatred for that blasted boy again, whose weakness was blighting Yato’s cold steel demeanor. All he had to do was kill the boy. Yes, it was becoming more and more obvious. Once the boy was dead the God of Calamity would return to his senses and thank him for the service Rabo had done. The he would finally be allowed to serve at the God of Calamity’s feet.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably My fave chapter, Check out the awesome Art!!  
> https://mixspixs.tumblr.com/post/173927180091/for-chapter-6-of-neverticklethissleepingdragons


	7. Chapter 7- A Little Felony Every Now and Then Never Hurt Anyone, Unless the Felony is Murder... or Arson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yato revisits the elementary school, but this time as Manabu with Hiyori

“Yukine!” Yato called, “Breakfast is ready!”

Yato bent down, smiling contentedly as he took the homemade blueberry muffins out of the oven and placed them on the countertop as a rumpled and sleepy looking Yukine padded into the kitchen. Yato brushed his hands on his apron proudly as Yukine gaped at the feast laid out before him.

“Wow, thanks. What’s the occasion? Did you rob a grocery store for all this?” He asked, taking a seat at the bar and examining the muffins, omelets, bacon, pancakes, toast, and sausage.

“Yes, and I just wanted to give you a good breakfast! You’re a good boy! You deserve good food!” Yukine narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“You did something wrong didn’t you? What was it? Did you accidentally give Hiyori our address?”

“No!” Yato exclaimed, offended. “How come every time I do something nice you assume I’ve done something wrong?”

“Experience.” Yato placed a hand on his chest.

“I’ll have you know I just think you’re a wonderful minion and son!”

 _Now_ Yukine understood, Yato was testing his reaction to that word, and all this food was to pacify him if he got upset.

Yato beamed at Yukine, who hadn’t reacted positively to being called his son, but hadn’t reacted negatively either. He was still staring suspiciously at Yato, like he was expecting him to confess at any second to something stupid he’d done. In truth he’d been feeling particularly affectionate after hearing that Yukine had threatened Hiyori for him during their lunch; it had reminded him how fortunate he was to have found Yukine, someone who made him feel needed and provided a steadying influence in his life.

“I made all your favorites!” Yato chirped.

“... I see that. Are you sure you haven’t done anything wrong? I won’t yell, I promise.”

“I haven’t!”

“Okay…” Yukine said, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. He shook his head and began loading his plate with a little bit of everything and tucked in. “It’s really good!”

Yato smiled brightly and began eating himself, digging in with as much gusto as Yukine had. He’d worked up an appetite making all this food. They ate in silence until a realization froze Yukine’s arm in midair as he reached for his second sausage, his eyes turning to Yato accusingly.

“Hiyori said something, didn’t she?” _Damn it,_ he thought, _she said she wouldn’t tell Yato what I said, but she doesn’t know her new ‘partner’_ is _Yato._

Yato, caught red-handed, simply grinned.

“She didn’t give any details, but she seemed pretty convinced you’re _completely_ loyal to me, and that you even threatened her on my behalf!” Yukine ignored the heat rushing to his ears to ask the question glaring him in the face.

“And I don’t suppose you were careful when you were snooping in my business so you wouldn’t make her suspicious?”

“Of course, I was careful! I didn’t even ask for details, and I really wanted too because she didn’t tell me what you said!” Yukine relaxed slightly.

“Good. Now mind your own business!”

“Hiyori is the one who brought it up! She said she didn’t get any information from you and I was really proud!” Yukine hid his smile by shoving an entire sausage in his mouth. “Be careful or you’ll choke!”

“At least now I know why you went to all the effort of making this, you were trying to butter me up and make me tell you if I said anything nice about you to Hiyori.”

“No way! I just love you! Besides, you made dinner last night!” Yukine shrugged.

“Fair enough.”

“Hiyori and I are going back to the school tonight. I left behind a discipline slip or two from when I was causing trouble.”

“When aren’t you causing trouble?”

“Fair enough.”

“We got everything, so it’ll be a dead end. I don’t know where she plans to go from here.” One of the drawings from last night had made it to the refrigerator, just as Yukine had promised. “It’d be good if you could find out what she knows about what she saw when she broke into the secret lair.”

“She mentions it every now and then, but I don’t think she understands most of it.”

“Don’t underestimate her, Yato, she’s dangerous.”

“Is that why you threatened her?” Yato purred, leaning close. Yukine leaned away, pulling his plate along with him.

“Yeah, sure, why not?”

“You’re growing up so fast!”

“Don’t start that again!” Yukine protested. “If you start crying, I’m moving out.”

“I’m not going to cry!”

“Good.”

“And besides, you won’t move out, you love me too much!”

“More like I’m too afraid you’ll accidentally cause your own death if you’re left alone for too long!”

“That’s the same thing!” Yukine rolled his eyes and grabbed another blueberry muffin.

 

* * *

 

 

Rabo curled his nose at the domestic scene unfurling before him. The God of Calamity _cooking_. What a disgrace. His fists clenched at the pleasant look The God of Calamity wore as he mixed batter, _how far he has fallen from the eminence and malevolence he once possessed._ He turned and stormed away. Things were worse than Rabo had thought, he needed more training. The sooner he could kill that boy the sooner the God of Calamity could recover from whatever delusion had overtaken him.

How easily the boy and girl used his name, as if they weren’t in the presence of a being more terrifying than they could comprehend. Those pathetic humans should be worshiping at the God of Calamity’s feet. He could only imagine the thrill of earning the right to address him so, through blood and sinew shed together on the battlefield, but he would _earn_ it, not take such liberties with a man so far his superior.

 

* * *

 

 

Kazuma had moved a television into Viina’s room where he could watch the news from his semi-permanent post by Viina’s bedside. It had been weeks and she still hadn’t woken up. He knew that she needed a hospital, but he couldn’t risk it. He didn’t want to know what Yato would do if he found out Bishamon was still alive. He couldn’t risk word getting out.

He’d recruited another doctor to prescribe and set up IV fluids to keep her hydrated, and then he’d used the memory gas Yato gifted him to make the doctor forget, and that was it. He’d had no other contact with the outside world except for the television.

He’d been surprised to see a boy who had to be Yukine standing behind Yato when he took over the city. He’d been watching on the hospital’s TV while Viina was in surgery. Yato had always been so protective of Yukine, even Kazuma hadn’t been permitted to meet him, but there he was, face broadcast on live TV.

He’d been entirely unsurprised, however, to see Yato’s introductory musical number with accompanying dance routine. He may have even been amused and entertained if Viina hadn’t been fighting for her life while it was happening. It seemed Yukine had steadfastly refused to dance, however, trailing morosely behind.

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when Yato took over. He knew it _hadn’t_ been for chaos and destruction to rain from the heavens like an unholy reckoning, though that wa what Yato had promised. He’d been relieved when Yato merely got up to his usual shenanigans, except this time without fear that Metro Woman would come and stop him.

If Yato had become the ferocious dictator Viina had always been so sure he’d become, there would be no stopping her from killing him. Maybe since no one had been killed since Yato took Viina down it wouldn’t be so bad, but then again, he’d nearly killed her this time, so Maybe Yato was in for a storm no matter what he did when she woke up.

_Please wake up._

 

* * *

 

 

Hiyori woke up late that morning, still exhausted from her late night, and still exhilarated by the new lead she’d managed to dig up with Manabu. She was finally _finally_ on to something that might help her defeat him. She was making real progress in her investigation. She strode through her living room into her kitchen, ducking underneath the papers hanging from her ceiling.

She grabbed a bagel and returned to the living room to gaze up at the mess she made. Hiyori had done her best to exactly recreate the papers she’d seen dangling from the ceiling in Yato’s secret lair. Unbeknownst to Yato or Yukine she had snuck several pictures while Manabu was rushing her to the door. Even with the pictures she’d barely been able to manage it, this was a mess.

On one page there were what she _thought_ were math equations that were either _far_ above her level or written in Yato’s native language; one was just a blank piece of paper, though it could have just been turned away from her camera when she’d snapped the photo. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to get back into their secret lair. She probably wouldn’t be able to after her last trespass, and even if she could, Yukine had been completely serious when he’d threatened her yesterday. He wouldn’t abide another threat to Yato’s safety.

There was another puzzle. After she first met Yukine she’d sat down with a police sketch artist to see if he’d been reported missing, but nothing came up.

She walked from the strange equation to her version of a corkboard that held a well-drawn, though inaccurate, image of Yato beating up Metro Woman. The picture was tilted ‘Good vs Evil.’ What was that about? There were what appeared to be blueprints for some sort of weapon spread out over multiple pages, and she couldn’t quite figure out how they matched up, they didn’t appear to have been hanging in order.

 _Is this what it’s like to live inside his mind?_ She wondered, _poor Yukine has to live with this guy._ Yato seemed so scattered brained it was no wonder he’d never beaten Metro Woman, until he had, that is.

 _I wonder if he cleaned out his old school, or if he thought no one would figure it out._ Hiyori jammed the rest of her breakfast into her mouth and ducked back into her bedroom to get ready for work. While she dressed she glanced over her notes for the day.

It was more of the same, Yato had _not_ delivered upon his promise for misery and ruin. The only things he’d done were rob a few banks and art museums, and he’d done those things before. She hated the confusion in her own writing, the wondering what was next for Metro City, though the words reflected her conflicted feelings about the God of Calamity himself.

He had taken over the city, killed Metro Woman, and terrorized everyone for years; but also adopted a son, bummed free food, and gave her a ride home because it was raining. How could one man be capable of all those things? One of them _had_ to be a facade, and it _couldn’t_ be The God of Calamity. The malice in his gaze had been no lie.

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you _sure_ you’re okay breaking the law like this?” Manabu asked her for the third time. She glanced back at him and met his eyes, bright blue, filled with concern, and worlds apart from the cold steel of the God of Calamity.

“For the last time, YES! One little felony for the greater good isn’t a big deal!” Manabu gave her a bemused look. “Besides, this is a victimless crime! We’re not going to look at files of anyone other than Yato. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine!”

Hiyori took the lead, crouching in shadows between street lamps and planning their trek to the school. She could feel Manabu’s eyes on her, but didn’t return his gaze. She needed to focus. She decided on their route and motioned for Manabu to follow her, glancing both ways before crossing the street. She and Manabu kept close to the ground and moved quickly from shadow to shadow across the school yard until they made it to the front door. She tried to turn the handle.

“Damn it, it’s locked. I don’t know what I expected.”

“I saw a broken window on the way in, I can boost you,” Manabu suggested.

“Nice!”

Manabu turned and slipped around the building, staying low. She couldn’t quite place it, but there was something familiar and almost predatory about the way he moved. His every motion was fluid, and Hiyori thought for the first time he might have a past she wasn’t aware of. How was he able to move like a shadow? He reached the broken window and turned to her; his eyes holding the same warmth they always had, and she realized it didn’t matter. He was here, now, and he was helping her, and for once she was glad to be helped.

Manabu took off his jacket and laid it over the windowsill. She smiled at his thoughtfulness, slipped her foot into his linked fingers, and climbed inside. Once her feet touched the ground Manabu hoisted himself into the room. She noticed again his precise and powerful movements but was distracted by the analytical look on his face as he scanned his surroundings.

The moon lit his careful eyes with magic, and when focused on her they brightened and his head quirked to the side.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing, you just… have pretty eyes.” His cheeks flushed so red she could see it even in the pale light. She chuckled. “I think we should stick together. Both of us should search every room. It’ll take longer but it’ll be more thorough.”

“Surely not every _single_ room?” Hiyori nodded. He gazed at her, open mouthed and horrified, and she giggled at how silly she looked. “But _Hiyori-”_ He whined.

“I don’t want to hear it,” she said sternly. “We’re here and we don’t want to miss anything, do we?” He looked defeated.

“No ma’am.” He glanced glumly around the room before his face lit with an idea. It was kind of cute. “I know, why don’t we search the offices first?”

“You’re right! They might have class manifests to narrow our search! Good idea, Manabu!” He beamed proudly. He followed her out of the classroom and turned towards the front door.

“We should go this way; the office will be close to the main entrance so the visitors can sign in.”

“You are on fire tonight!”

When they entered the office, Manabu went straight for the file cabinets while Hiyori chose the desk, rifling through papers left on top before moving to the drawers. The sounds of Manabu gently rustling behind her kept her company while she worked. She put herself in the mind of a school administrator; if she were a principal or counselor where would she keep a classroom manifest? Close to her, where she could reference it easily, and assuming that the person who sat at this desk was right handed it would probably be in the top right drawer. She opened it with some anticipation and grabbed the top file, exclaiming in triumph when it was exactly what she was looking needed. Manabu made a small sound of surprise behind her, and when she turned to him, beaming with pride, he looked the slightest bit alarmed.

“I found the manifest! We’ll know exactly which rooms to search! Great idea, Manabu!” She praised. He smiled sheepishly.

 “You too, Hiyori.” He looked immensely relieved. Hiyori remembered his expression when she’d declared that they would be searching every room; he probably hadn’t realized he was signing up for an all-night gig.

“The last year he attended Yato was in room 108.” Manabu nodded.

“His file was empty, can’t say I’m surprised.” Hiyori nodded in confirmation.

“Let’s head to the room, it’s the one we’re most likely to find something in.”

 

* * *

 

 

They entered the classroom and cast their flashlights in every corner. Hiyori made a beeline for the desk again, while Yato wandered through the children’s’ desks. He remembered perfectly well which one he’d sat in, but he was very aware of Hiyori rustling around behind him. He didn’t want to make her suspicious by seeming too familiar with his surroundings.

He looked through the long faded graffiti and was surprised to see that a few of them mentioned his name. Nothing remarkable, he knew he hadn’t been well liked, so the ‘I hate Yato’ notes were par for the course, though they came with echoing taunts reverberating through the halls of his mind. He stopped and smiled when he reached Kazuma’s desk. Kazuma had been seated in front of Yato by a teacher hoping he would be a good influence on the classroom troublemaker. Little did they know that grouping Yato, Bishamon, and Kazuma all together meant those three would make more noise than the rest of the class.

He reached down and ran his fingertips gently along words the usually rule-abiding Kazuma had carved into the desk. “BISHAMON KAZUMA YATO FRIENDS FOREVER.” He felt the corners of his mouth turn upwards and looked to his left, where Bishamon had sat. Even from here he could see where she had scratched the words “YATO STINKS” into the wood. He knew his own desk displayed the words “KAZUMA AND YATO R COOL” and “BISHAMON STINKS MORE.” His lips split into a real grin as he remembered many spirited arguments they had had over whatever it was ten year olds argued about.

Yato recalled distinctly when Bishamon had carved the phrase “YATO STINKS” into her desk and Kazuma had gotten angry, withholding his pudding cup from her like it was some grave punishment. Maybe it had been, back then.

Yato sat in the tiny chair at his desk and looked closer to see words that had been written, not carved. “Kazuma and Yato, future superheroes.” His heart softened and he couldn’t suppress a chuckled at the irony. He’d forgotten until now. Kazuma came up with the idea and convinced Yato that it was possible. Hiyori looked up at the sound of his laughter.

“What have you got?” She asked.

“Yato’s desk, when he was little he wanted to be a superhero, did you know? It says it right here.” He was unable to keep the nostalgia out of his voice, but he didn’t think Hiyori noticed.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not. Right here.” Hiyori got to her feet, when Yato glanced at her he saw she held his discipline slips clutched in her hand. She strode across the room to his side and her eyes widened when she saw the writing.

“Kazuma, that’s the name of Metro Woman’s minion, isn’t it? She said it right before Yato killed her.” He remembered. “Look at this other desk, ‘Bishamon, Yato, and Kazuma’ do you think Bishamon is Metro Woman’s real name?”

“Maybe,” Yato replied, pointing to his graffiti insulting her, but his mind was still in the memory of he and Kazuma deciding one day to be defenders of Metro City.

_“No way,” Bishamon had scoffed. “You’re from Yomi, you’ll never be a hero!”_

His smile faded. She’d been right. What would his younger self think of him now, terror of Metrocity? The idea bothered him more than he cared to admit. Hiyori stepped away while he brooded but called his name a few minutes later.

“What is it?”

“A drawing by Kazuma, look! It has Yato in it!” _Damn it_. Hiyori held it out to him.

He recognized it at once. Kazuma drew it after the first time Yato had saved him from bullies and was facing expulsion. He has done it as a part of his campaign to stop Yato from being kicked out after he’d nearly killed the culprits. It showed a crudely drawn Kazuma crying while a knight (he thought it was a knight) on what could have been a horse stood between Kazuma and some monsters. The knight was labelled with Yato’s name.

“It seems like this kid was pretty fond of Yato,” he said, doing his best to keep laughter out of his voice. In reality he’d been more like the monsters, brutalizing the bullies before he’d been dragged off by an adult. Kazuma hadn’t seen it that way though. Yato would have loved to take this to Kazuma during one of their secret meetups to tease him about it.

“It looks like he thought of Yato as a protector,” she said slowly. Yato raised his eyebrows at the consideration in her voice.

“Isn’t that a little strange for a villain?”

“Actually, this matches up with the way that Yato’s son talks about him. His exact words were ‘Yato has always made me feel safe.’ There’s another side to him that you and I have never seen. He shows it to Yukine, and he showed it to this boy.”

A hurt Yato had previously been unaware of quieted as the words washed through his mind. _Yato has always made me feel safe._ “Manabu, are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m fine,” he said. _I’ve seen something much better._

He drifted back to the desk where he’d sat when he was still a child daydreaming with his best friend. He’d hoped then that he could be something more than what his father decided. He remembered how glad he was to be in a place where he could forget that he’d already killed people, that he was more dangerous than any adult, and that he was scarier than the monsters under his classmates beds. It had been comforting to be just a child, even if everyone hated him, and here he’d had the freedom to dream of something else.

That was before he returned to his father of his own free will and learned to love the slaughter, before he’d turned himself into the monster he’d feared. Years passed, and he forgot the little boy who’d dared to dream of goodness and light, he grew into the man who thrived in the dark, shrouded in blood and suffering.

Hiyori called his name and he smiled at her, shaking off his darkened mood before following her out the door.

They searched the rest of the relevant rooms; thankfully Hiyori didn’t insist that they search the whole school as she’d promised. Yato was glad he hadn’t missed anything else, although his one slip up had resulted in the most important insight of the evening, at least to him.

 

* * *

 

 

The apartment was quiet when Yato got home. He cracked open the door to Yukine’s room to check on him and smiled softly when he saw that Yukine had kicked off his blankets. He crept in on silent feet and picked the blankets off the ground, tucking them gently around Yukine. He brushed the boy’s hair off his face and Yukine cracked open a bleary eye.

“Yato?”

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No, I was still awake.” Yukine half sat up, peering into Yato’s face with sleep clouded eyes. “You look upset, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” he looked away.

“You’re a terrible liar. What’s wrong? Was it going back to the school again? Did it bring back painful memories?” Yato was surprised at first by Yukine’s discernment, but then realized he was probably speaking from experience, they had so much in common…

“It’s just… harder than I thought it would be, looking back.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Yato paused, denial on the tip of his tongue. Didn’t he want to talk? Wasn’t that what he wanted? To speak and be heard and _believed_ rather than demonized without question? Was that not what he had wanted when he’d nearly left Hiyori the incident report on the time he’d saved Kazuma? Here was someone who loved him and was willing to listen, offering even. _Yato’s always made me feel safe,_ he’d said, but Yukine made Yato feel safe too, didn’t he? Yato sat slowly on the bed and Yukine wiggled over to make room.

“Yeah, I think I do.”

 


	8. Why Are You Supposed to Clean Up Before Having Guests Over? It's Your House You Should Be Able to Live How You Want To.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This week on Jessie ruins light hearted childrens tales: catch the Tangled reference.

Yukine groaned when he rolled over and onto Yato. _Oh yeah_. Yato had stayed with Yukine after talking late into the night. He had _claimed_ he was just too worn out to move, but Yukine knew it was really because he was afraid of having nightmares after dragging up the past. After all the times Yukine had woken Yato with his own nightmares, he was actually glad to return the favor.

Yato was still sleeping soundly, apparently tuckered out from his emotional confessions the night before; there had been so many. Yukine’s mind was still reeling from it. So much about Yato made sense now, although there were still plenty of unanswered questions. Certain stories had been hard for Yato to tell; there had been several long silences followed by halting speech while he worked through it. When it was over Yukine was stunned by how much Yato shared.

At last he knew why Yato stopped for him that night in the rain; he’d seen himself in Yukine. Yukine’s confession about his abusive father had only furthered the connection Yato’s mind had made. There was no way Yato would have left him behind that night, and Yukine was glad, his life was better now.

“Mizuchi don’t do that,” Yato mumbled. So, he _had_ dreamt about the past after all.

Yukine had been shocked to learn that Yato had a younger sister whom he hadn’t seen in years. She’d rejected him after he murdered their father and then promptly disappeared. He’d asked her to come with him and help him with his new life mission to become Evil Overlord, and he wondered sometimes if she was still in Metro City, and if she was proud when she saw him on the news.

Yukine brushed Yato’s hair out of his face and smiled when he sighed in his sleep. Here he felt warm and safe, and he didn’t ever want to leave.

 

It had been days since Viina had even moved, and Kazuma was growing increasingly worried. He kept her fluids bag filled and his finger on her pulse, so he knew she was alive, but that didn’t stop him from worrying.

Viina wasn’t the only thing he worried about, he kept his TV turned on Hiyori’s channel at all times now, she was the only one Kazuma trusted to not be afraid of reporting the truth. Yato was keeping a low profile, though. He hadn’t even made any flashy public appearances to remind the public that he was in charge. _Although given how elaborate the last one was, he might still be practicing._

However, it seemed that Yato had no big ideas about what he was going to do next. _Typical. It’s exactly like him to do something like this; take over the city without a plan._ Hiyori appeared to make a grim-faced report, which had become her new usual. There was still nothing about Yato; and everyone had either lost interest in trying to find out about ‘The Boy With the God of Calamity’ or Yato was threatening news stations to keep his picture off TV. It wouldn’t surprise Kazuma, Yato was very protective of Yukine.

 

“LET ME LIVE, YUKINE!” Yato shouted, waving a piece of bacon around like a club.

That morning Yukine had another affectionate impulse and cooked all of Yato’s favorites, then scolded him as he ate to fast.

“I’m not going to clean up your vomit if you make yourself sick!” Yukine snapped back, throwing his hands in the air.

“I won’t make myself sick! On Yomi we ate _way_ more than humans!”

“You’re making that up.”

“I’m not!”

“Then how come I’ve never heard of it before?”

“Because I’m a vault of secrets.”

“More like a vault of shit,” Yukine grumbled. Yato opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by his phone ringing.

“Oh, it’s Hiyori.”

“What does she want?”

“Just to meet up,” he said evasively, looking back at his plate.

Yukine narrowed his eyes. Yato was hiding something from him, but he didn’t know what. Yato ate the rest of his meal without looking at Yukine, thanking him and then leaving with a reminder about wearing his Kevlar vest.

“Oh, and I made you your own dehydration gun for self-defense.”

“Okay, _mom_ , I’ll play safe.”

“Good!” Yato replied, right before the door shut behind him. Yukine sighed, he didn’t like that Yato was already back to keeping secrets so soon after baring his soul.

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Hiyori said, gaping as Yato shifted uncomfortably.

“Unfortunately, I’m not.”

“How can you have never ridden a bike?”

“I was really poor growing up!” He invented wildly, surprised when it was technically true. He _had_ been homeless and living in the school for a while, although the real reason he’d never ridden a bike was because his father never taught Yato and Mizuchi anything that could lend them any sort of freedom. He’d spent his entire life being trained to be his father’s personal assassin. That had given him all the freedom he needed, in the end. “We could never afford one.”

“I’m sorry, Manabu, I didn’t know. Here, let me teach you.” He took the handlebars of the bike she offered and smiled shyly. “First you have to kick your leg over the side so you’re straddling it.” He obeyed, feeling supremely silly as he stood with a bike between his legs, unmoving. Hiyori kicked out the kickstand on her bike and wrapped her arms around Yato, placing her hands on the handlebars next to his. “Alright now sit down and take one foot off the ground and put it on a pedal, then push, and put your other foot on the other pedal.”

“Already? I’ll fall!”

“No, you won’t, I’ve got you! You’ll be perfectly safe in my hands, I promise.” He turned his face away from her, absolutely certain she could feel the heat in his cheeks. He tried to do as she said, but his bicycle wobbled dangerously, and he placed his feet back on the ground.

“Whoa!”

“No, it’s alright, try again. I’ve got you, I promise.” Her smile summoned his own and he nodded. This time he wobbled much less and started moving forward slowly.

“Promise you won’t let go?” He asked.

“Of course. I’ll be right here with you.”

Yato nodded again, then turned back to the front, the reassuring weight of Hiyori’s arms spurring him onward as he picked up his pace slightly and Hiyori shouted words of praise. The farther he went, the more confidence he gained, and the less he was relying on Hiyori’s support.

“I’m doing it Hiyori!” He exclaimed, turning his head to beam at her; a ribbon of panic slicing through him when he saw she wasn’t there. “Wha-” he turned his head all the way around to find her. He had just enough time to see her standing twenty feet back, beaming like the sun, before the world came out from under him and he was tumbling. “Ahh!” He landed with his limbs tangled painfully in his bicycle, and breathless with glee. The sound of feet hitting the pavement proceeded Hiyori’s worried face.

“Are you alright?”

He nodded, blood still rushing with delight. Distantly he realized she broke her promise, but he didn’t care, he was still caught up in the feeling of freedom and achievement that accompanied his realization that he was doing it on his own. That, he realized suddenly, must have been her intent all along.

“I did it!” He said.

“You did it!” She echoed. She reached down and began untangling him from his bicycle. “I knew you could do it!” Once Yato had been freed Hiyori helped him to his feet. He winced slightly when he put weight on his left ankle. “Oh no!” She cried, looking down at his foot.

He started when she knelt in front of him and brushed her fingers on tender skin. He was surprised when they came away red, he must have fallen harder than he thought, his skin didn’t break easily. Hiyori wheeled his bike back for him and instructed him to sit on the curb while she rifled through her bag for band-aids.

He looked down at his ankle to inspect his wound and was relieved when he saw it was only a minor abrasion, it had already stopped bleeding. For a moment he was worried that he’d found his weakness like Bishamon had, except his was bicycles, not pennies. What a pair they would have been.

“Thank you for teaching me to ride a bike, Hiyori,” Yato said as she withdrew the bandages from her purse and knelt at his feet again.

“No problem, everyone should know how to ride a bike!”

She smiled, pushing his pant leg up a little to access the wound better. He sucked in a breath when she touched his ankle. She was much more gentle and professional than Yukine was, but that made sense. Yukine was thirteen and figuring everything out on his own, Hiyori’s dad was a doctor and had probably taught her a few things. _Maybe I should teach Yukine to ride a bike, we could ride them together!_

“This might sting a bit,” Hiyori said, unwrapping an alcohol swab. He felt a little guilty letting her take care of him like this, he was a grown man perfectly capable of putting on his own band-aids. He liked the feel of her skin brushing against his ankle, though, and the kind look on her face as she took care of him. “Alright, all finished.” She tossed the wrapper in a nearby bin and helped him to his feet. He thanked her shyly. “Do you want to keep riding?” He nodded eagerly.

“Where should we ride?” He asked.

“How about the park on thirty second street? It’s not far and you can practice on the way! Do you think you can make it that far on your own now?” He nodded, and she mounted her bike. He followed suit and kicked off, wobbling at first, then getting his balance and speeding up so he rode at her side. He glanced over and grinned at her face, flushed with exertion, hair whipped back in the wind.

Yato had tried many different forms of transportation throughout the years, more dangerous and much faster than this, but there was something oddly satisfying about traveling under his own power. It made the wind caressing his face and the scenery flashing by him much more appealing. He hadn’t known what he’d been missing out on. He glanced over at Hiyori again and smirked evilly.

“Eat my dust Hiyori!” He cried, pushing his legs faster and pulling ahead of her. Behind him her melodic laugh rang through the air as she accepted his challenge.

“In your dreams, Manabu! Loser buys lunch!” Hiyori pedaled harder, advancing on Yato. He may have more powerful leg muscles than any human could, but Hiyori had more experience and was a better rider, making them about an even match.

“You’re on! There’s no way that I’m losing!” Yato retorted.

“Oh, I think there’s no way that you’re winning!”

As they approached the park he slowed down to make the turn whereas she sped up, and her experience proved to be his downfall, she zipped around him and into the park, laughing gleefully. The sound warmed Yato, and he found that he no longer cared if he lost, after all the prize was dinner with Hiyori.

“Oh, what fun!” Yato said, trailing behind her. Her laugh travelled back to him on the wind.

“You don’t get out much do you?” She turned forward and stopped abruptly. Yato only had time to think _oh no_ before colliding with her and sending them both crashing to the ground.

“Oh, ow-ow-ow, I’m sorry, Hiyori,” Yato said, trying to lift himself off her then wincing, his foot was caught in the spokes of _her_ bike’s wheel. How had _that_ happened?

“No, it’s not your fault, you’re still learning, I shouldn’t have stopped so suddenly in front of you.”

“Why did you? Is something wrong?”

“Look at this place,” she said as Yato lifted a bike off her and helped her to her feet, “I used to come play here with my mom, now it’s just a dump.”

She swept her arm wide, indicating the garbage heaped grass. Yato followed her gaze and saw through her eyes what the park must have once been. He saw a young Hiyori running and playing on the grass while a woman who looked like her reclined on a blanket a few feet away, wearing a tolerant smile. His gaze shifted back to Hiyori’s saddened face and he became determined to bring her smile back.

“Well, at least you don’t have to pay for lunch, you beat me fair and square.” He offered her a small smile which she only half returned.

“You’re right let’s go find a place to eat, I’m starved.”

“Me too!”

 

“So, Yato, why are we cleaning up the city?” Yukine asked, firing the dehydration canon at yet another large pile of trash.

“Well, what if we have company over? We don’t want to be embarrassed by such a dump of a city, do we?”

“What company, Yato? We don’t have any friends!”

“What if we make some?”

“Who are we going to make friends with?”

“I don’t know, other supervillains? There have got to be some other than me! Maybe there’s some sort of evil coalition and they’re going to invite us because I managed to take over Metrocity! Maybe they want to learn from me!”

“By accident,” Yukine reminded him. “And if there is a group like that, why wouldn’t they have already contacted you? If there’s a group of supervillains out there they totally think you’re lame!”

“I am not lame! Keep firing! We’re cleaning up the city whether you like it or not!”

“Okay, okay, geez, I’m firing!”

 

“Okay, okay so… Metro Woman and I were never actually a couple,” Hiyori confessed, grinning sheepishly at Yato.

“What?” He replied, because he thought it was what she expected him to say. “I thought you two were together!”

He hadn’t. He’d had to listen to Kazuma whining about ‘not wanting to ruin their friendship’ for weeks when they were nineteen. He’d left school when he was around ten, and by the time he next saw Kazuma when they were eighteen he’d honestly expected them to already be married, he had thought Kazuma was joking when he said they were ‘just friends.’

“I know, I know,” Hiyori said, turning her head to look back up through the canopy.

The two of them were laying on their backs on quilt Hiyori brought. The spotted sunlight softened the world around them.

“Everyone always did, but she was always felt so far away. She was never rude, but she seemed like her mind was elsewhere. I didn’t even know her real name. I knew she had to have one, but I assumed she wouldn’t tell me, so I never asked.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Alright, now it’s your turn, tell me something you’ve never told anyone else!”

She rolled on her side to face him better, and as the gentle afternoon light dappled her smiling face he wished for a moment that this was real, that she was here with Yato, not Manabu, and that she really looking at _him_ with something so dangerously close to affection it made him lightheaded. He knew what was happening, and that he needed to be more careful, but it was so easy to look into her rosewood eyes and let himself be covered by the feeling of safety that radiated her.

“Well, back in school,” he began, as the more reasonable parts of him screamed to stop and his father's voice told him he would never be loved, “I never really fit in. I tried, but no one wanted to give me a chance, not even the teachers. I pretended like it didn’t bother me, but it did.”

“Well,” Hiyori said, taking his hand and threading their fingers together, “it’s a pity we didn’t go to the same school.” He smiled softly and squeezed her hand, and even his father’s voice was quiet.

 

Rabo was a cauldron of poison over a smoldering fire of hate, and with every passing moment his rage grew. He watched The God of Calamity lay on a picnic blanket and confess his weaknesses to a human woman and he felt disgusted. His beautiful eyes that should have been filled with depravity and malice were soft and vulnerable. Rabo _hated_ it. How _dare_ this woman, this charlatan, lay so close to him, like she was worthy to touch him? How _dare_ she link their fingers like they were lovers in easy conversation? How dare she invoke such stillness and peace in the God of Calamity’s aura?

The God of Calamity was the unholy offspring of chaos and death, born from darkness and sprouted in evil. How dare this woman- and the child- lead him away from his true nature? Rabo had at first thought it was his destiny to serve at the God of Calamity’s feet, but he knew better now. He saw what his true purpose was. Rabo would entice the God of Calamity back to the darkness and light the fire within him. He would wake the demon and worship its might.

Those glowing eyes shone in his mind now, writhing and filled with depravity, he could bask in their glory. Once the woman and child were disposed of he would revel in the malevolence, but not yet. His training wasn’t finished yet. He needed to be stronger before he killed them, because he knew the God of Calamity was too far gone to let them go without a fight. Soon, but not yet. Rabo knew best.

 

“Still no news on the man who was hit with the infuser gun,” Yukine said, looking troubled. “He’s like a ghost.” Yukine typed furiously, apparently scouring the internet for any trace of this man, again.

“I’m sure he’ll turn up,” Yato said idly, staring at his phone screen as he waited for Hiyori to reply.

“Are you even listening to me?” Yukine snapped, annoyed. His eyes flitted from Yato to his phone and back again. “Are you _still_ texting Hiyori? Yato, this is serious, there is someone out there, _possibly from Yomi,_ and we don’t know who he is. We need to _find him._ ”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it. It’s bad that this guy has Bishamon’s powers, but how bad can he be? He won’t be the first or even second person from Takamagahara that I’ve killed.”

“But he would be the first one with the powers of both you _and_ Bishamon, isn’t he? The truth is we have no idea what the effects of this are on someone like you. There’s no telling what could happen if the two of you fought!”

“Everything is going to be fine,” Yato said, putting down his phone at last. “Don’t worry.”

“One of us has to worry, and I guess it has to be me because it obviously isn’t going to be you! You spend all your time mooning after Hiyori when you should be worrying what happens when this guy makes an orphan out of your son!” Using the s-word had had the desired effect. Yato’s attention was wholly on Yukine now, so he directed it towards this problem.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” He slid his phone into his pocket. “Have you tried looking through traffic cams?”

“ _YES!”_ Yukine half shouted. “I asked you last week to write a program that would run twenty-four-hour facial recognition on them! I don’t know how!” Yato sighed, feeling guilty, and scooted closer to the desk. He cleared half the monitors and pulled up his regular facial recognition software.

“Here,” he said, “I’ll show you.”

 

Several hours later their software was scanning for faces that matched the partial shot of the mystery man. Yato and Yukine had returned to their apartment for the night, but Yukine was still hunched over the laptop he’d stolen, working. “I feel a bit better now that the traffic cams are watching for us, but I wish we had enough bandwidth to search through the archives as well.”

“It’s more important to find him right now, not in the past,” Yato said, popping a strawberry into his mouth.

“I guess, but the archives could tell where he’s _been_ , where he goes frequently, even where he lives, and it could be helpful to narrow down a pattern of behavior at least.”

“You’re right but scanning the entire archive of every camera in the entire city would be too inefficient without a specific time frame or location. We’re doing what’s best.”

“It just makes me nervous to have this potential ticking time bomb out there and to not know where and when it might go off.”

“We’ll find him, Yukine, don’t worry.”

 

“Are we almost there?” Hiyori asked, and though her back was to him he could tell she was smiling by the amusement in her voice.

“Almost.”

The brain bots were bringing in the last of the art pieces he’d stolen and hanging them back on their posts. Her delight after he’d cleaned up the streets and parks had been addicting, and he hadn’t been able to quit.

“Alright, you can look now,” he said, lifting his hands from her eyes. His heart stuttered at her gasp of delight, and all but halted when she threw herself at him in her joy.

“They’re all back, I don’t believe it!”

“Maybe The God of Calamity isn’t so bad after all,” he said timidly.

“I wonder what’s gotten into him,” she said, taking a step back. _Yeah, it’s a real mystery,_ he thought wryly, watching her continue to take in their surroundings with awe. His phone pinged, and he slid it out of his pocket.

 _Still no news on our mystery guy. There were a few false positive matches._ Yato had asked Yukine to send him hourly updates on the scan. His good mood darkened, and he put his phone away. When he looked up he was surprised to see Hiyori watching him curiously.

“What’s the matter, Manabu, is something wrong?”

“Oh um…” he said, floundering wildly for an excuse, “it’s just…”

“You’re worried the God of Calamity might be trying to lure us into a false sense of security,” she said knowingly.

“Yeah,” he agreed, grateful she’d given him an out she hadn’t known he needed.

“It crossed my mind too, but honestly, I don’t think so. I’ve spent a good deal of time with him and I just don’t think that’s his style.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well he’s more into the flashy and dramatic. Cleaning up the city just to make people feel safer isn’t really the type of thing he’d do. If he wanted more reaction he’d just dial up the special effects.” _Called out_ , he thought.

“He certainly is a good showman,” Yato commented, unable to help himself.

“And a drama queen,” she added. Yato half grinned. Yukine said the same thing all the time.

 

“The city’s parks and museums restored to their original glory, the streets the safest they’ve been, the banks reopened; has something happened to Megamind? Has someone tamed this monster? This is Hiyori Iki, cautiously optimistic, and pleasantly surprised.

 

Kazuma quirked his head curiously at the newscast. Had Yato really done all those things? He was taking care of the city? How odd. He wondered why. What had made him start leaning towards benevolence like this? He doubted it was a sudden urge to become a hero like the two of them had always wanted to. Whatever the reason, he hoped Yato kept it up, if he was actually helping the city Bishamon might not kill him when she woke.

 

Rabo gritted his teeth as glass crunched in his palm. He had shattered it in his grip as that _woman_ gave her news story that painted The God of Calamity like the unsung hero of the city, when really he was the monster under their beds. How _dare_ she imply that there was good in him? There was nothing of the sort, The God of Calamity was pure unadulterated darkness, the very embodiment of evil.

He looked down at his hand, expecting to see blood running in rivers of red down his arm, but he didn’t. His skin was unmarked, and when he opened his fingers glass poured in a fine powder to the ground. His teeth bared in a grin.

 

 


	9. First Dates Always Suck So It's Not A Big Deal If You Get Punched

“What are you doing, Yato?” Yukine asked, flipping on the basement lights to see Yato bent over his sewing machine, pins stuck between his lips, carefully stitching two pieces of black fabric together.

“‘M ma’in a ‘ew ‘uit,” he garbled.

“You’re making a new suit?”

“‘Eah!”

“Yato, take those pins out of your mouth, you’ll swallow them.” Yukine snatched a pincushion off one of the other worktables and set it in front of Yato, who took his foot off the pedal and sat up. He removed the pins from his mouth. “Why do you need a new suit?”

“Well whoever this guy is that has Metro Woman’s powers, I’m probably going to have to fight him, and I can’t do that in just any old suit! It has to look _cool_!”

“And protect you from potentially fatal super shots because we don’t know how strong this guy is going to be.”

“Right! Oh, and that reminds me, you’re going to like this!” He ran his fingers underneath the fabric and lifted it slightly for Yukine to see better. “Last night I couldn’t sleep so I broke into the evidence locker where the police stored all my dad’s stuff after I killed him, and I stole everything back, _including_ his armor from Takamagahara and Yomi. No idea how he _got_ armor from Yomi, but I’ve spent all night modifying it to fit me!”

“They still had it?”

“They had to keep it because they never figured out that it was me, and lucky for us!” He got to his feet and picked up a vambrace. “Look, these were made to take high damage from Yomi steal, and it’s all bullet proof and really light, and made to not impede movement! They’re optimized for battle because we were warrior people!” Yato had been right, Yukine _did_ like that.

“You should try to analyze the fibers in this fabric to see if you can recreate or even improve it.” Yato shook his head sadly.

“It won’t be as strong, because this was made with materials found only on Yomi, but I have a few ideas on how to make a weaker copy of it with earth materials. I unwound some of the scraps and wove it into a lightweight bulletproof undershirt, so you’ll have no excuse not to wear it!”

“Again, with the bullet proofing,” he grumbled. “No one is shooting at me, Yato! No one even knows who I am!”

“Better safe than sorry!” Yukine rolled his eyes and picked up a shin guard.

“So, are you going to wear all of this stuff?”

“No, it’s two full suits of armor. One from Yomi and one from Takamagahara. I thought I’d use the Yomi one myself and keep the Takamagahara one for backup, or for if you ever needed it.”

“Why would I ever need it?”

“What if you decide you want to be a supervillain someday? You’ll need your own armor!”

“And leave you alone? No way! You’d never make it without me!”

“I made it before you!”

“Luck,” Yukine said simply.

“Rude!” Yato pouted and turned away.

“Anyway, I’m glad you found all this,” Yukine said. “How come you never thought about this before?”

“I try to stay away from things that remind me of him,” Yato shifted uncomfortably, “but I figured this was really important, so it was worth it.”

“I think you’re right,” Yukine said, sorry he had chosen the exact wrong topic to make peace with. “But with all this modification you’re making it your own, and I bet it _will_ look really cool!” Yato brightened slightly.

“Yeah, and there’ll be no one else with armor like me because how many other people escaped the planet death and brought armor with them?”

“Exactly! It’ll be like your trademark, and I bet you’ll look too scary for people to call you Megamind anymore!” Yato’s face lit up at the potential death of that nickname and he sat back down at his sewing machine to finish working on his suit.

Yukine left and returned a few minutes later with a sandwich, some juice, and a bag of chips, knowing that Yato had probably forgotten to eat. He did that sometimes when he got really caught up in a project. He set the food down next to Yato and left to look through the possible matches the scanner had found overnight. He was disappointed again and again until a long mane of silver hair caught his attention.

He shouted Yato’s name at the exact same time Yato shouted his, and he jumped in his seat, turning to see Yato dressed in full battle armor. His jaw dropped, and he surveyed the suit slowly. Yato looked like he was _made_ to kill, except for the goofy grin on his face.

“Do I look cool?” Yato asked, puffing his chest out proudly.

“You really do,” Yukine admitted. “You look awesome! But look at what I have! I found him!” Yato’s mouth fell open.

“R-really?”

“Yeah! Just now, come look!” Yato approached the computer and stared hard at the mane of wavy silver hair in the top of the screen.

“It looks like he was boarding the A-line subway, and he doesn’t get off until the final stop.” Yukine’s hands whizzed across keyboard as he continually switched cameras, keeping the man on screen, sometimes in multiple angles, but the best angle was always in the center. “We can follow his progress all the way out of the city, where he walks out of sight and isn’t picked up again, but now we have full shots of his face! We can scan for him more efficiently now!”

“He left the city?” Yato asked, pushing his bangs out of his face and reaching around Yukine to pull up a map of the surrounding areas. His hair fell forward, and he pushed it back again, huffing.

“If you’d stop leaving your hair bows everywhere you’d have them when you need them,” Yukine commented.

“Well that doesn’t help me right now, does it?” Yato snapped. “Where are they at?”

“I think you put a few on the switch to the alligator tank,” Yukine said, eyes not leaving the map.

“Thanks!” Yato crossed the room and took one then pulled his hair up into a ponytail. When he turned around Yukine was giving him a strange look. “What?”

“He walks like you.” Yukine turned back to the screen and replayed a clip of the man walking. “I couldn’t tell before because he was stumbling around in that other clip, but your strides are controlled and even, all your motions are fluid, and he’s the same.”

“You’re right,” Yato said. He’d noticed even with the stumbling, it was what had clued him in about this man possibly being from Yomi. “We don’t know for sure he’s from Yomi yet, but we know he’s dangerous.” 

* * *

Rabo stretched his arms out in front of him and flexed his fingers, reveling in the power crackling under his skin. He wasn’t sure he would ever get used to the feeling of Takamagahara running through his veins. His skeletal grin stretched across his face as he tilted his head back, the hysterical laughter rose from within him, he kept it caged, and it clamored for release.

Today was the day, finally! At last he felt like he was capable of looking into the God of Calamity’s face and being proud to offer himself as a servant. His feet lifted from the ground and he floated fifty feet into the air, turning back towards the city, admiring the skyline that would soon belong to him, together with the God of Calamity. The wind whipped his long hair all around him, ruffling his clothes as he imagined what it would be like to kill under orders for the first time.

Today was the day his hard work would finally pay off.

* * *

 Kazuma was over the moon. This morning Bishamon had started making sounds in her sleep, and her hand had in twitched in his. The internet said this wasn’t necessarily a sign of waking up from a coma, but the internet wasn’t considering that his patient wasn’t human, and that she was much more durable than normal patients. No, Kazuma was _sure_ this was a sign. He was even more please that Yato was actively working to improve the city, so he might be able to convince Viina to stay in bed a little longer and recuperate. If Hiyori read one more of those optimistic reports about him and Viina saw it, he might even be able to convince her to recuperate fully. He knew that she would never stay away indefinitely, but she would at least be healthy.

He tucked the blanket around her and smiled. 

* * *

 

“Why do you look so excited? Yukine asked, walking into the cellar as Yato was taking off the armor and folding it carefully into a box. Yato’s broad grin didn’t seem justified by laundry folding.

“Oh, I’m just excited we found that guy! We don’t have to worry anymore!” Yato didn’t look up from his folding.

“You’re lying.” Yukine took a step closer, then two steps back as a wall of scent hit him. “How much cologne are you wearing?” He asked, covering his mouth and nose with his sleeve.

“Too much?”

“ _Way_ too much. And why are you wearing cologne anyway?”

“No reason!” Yato replied hurriedly, swapping his shirt with the one from Yomi. He tossed one to Yukine. “Here, a bullet proof shirt to replace the kevlar you hate so much.”

“Why are you wearing cologne, Yato?” Yukine repeated.

“I just told you, because I want too!” Yukine took in Yato’s inability to meet his gaze, the faint pink of his cheeks, and finally the cloaking watch he was wearing.

“This is about Hiyori, isn’t it?” Yukine asked uncomfortably, unsure how involved in Yato’s love life he wanted to be. “You’re going on a date with her, aren’t you?”

“No!” _Yes._

“Yato are you… in love with Hiyori?”

“No!” _Yes!_

“Have you put any thought into how your relationship would work?” Yukine asked gingerly, wishing he could be anywhere else but here, with Yato looking at him with those pleading eyes. “What happens when she finds out who you really are, Yato? She hates you.”

“She’s never going to find out!” Yato replied. “That’s the point of lying!”

“And what kind of relationship is built on lies?”

“All of them!”

“Come on, Yato, I’m just a kid and even I know that’s not true.”

“You’re right, you _are_ just a kid, so why would I be taking relationship advice from you?”

“Maybe because you’re too close to this to be objective,” Yukine suggested.

“How else am I supposed to be? I like her, so what?”

“I don’t think you should go through with this date. I don’t think this relationship will end well. Maybe it’s time to sever your ties with Hiyori.”

“I don’t want to!” Yato exclaimed, though his voice held a definite whine. “Hiyori is the only one who sees me!” Yukine felt his already sad heart soften. Yato’s only friend was currently hiding from him, and he couldn’t exactly go and make new friends in normal ways. He didn’t have anyone his own age to confide in, and talking to his teenage son about his love life was probably not ideal.

“I know, but Hiyori is smart, remember? She’s going to figure out sooner or later, and if I were going to put money on it I’d say sooner. I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he said gently. “Bad guys don’t get the girl.”

“Well maybe I don’t want to be the bad guy anymore!” Yato snapped, then stormed past Yukine before he had the chance to formulate a response.

Yukine stood frozen for several minutes after he heard the car start and pull away. _Yato… doesn’t want to be the bad guy anymore? After everything he’s done? Can he really change, and even if he does will the city accept him?_  

* * *

 

“Sorry I’m late,” Yato said hurriedly, sitting across from Hiyori.

She had picked the restaurant for the night, and it was very fancy. Yato would have definitely not been able to afford a place like this before he’d taken over. He glanced around at the other couples and felt his ears warm slightly. He was on a date. With Hiyori. A date with Hiyori Iki. He couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from turning upwards at the thought.

“I had trouble parking,” he said.

“It’s not a problem, the waiter just took my drink order, I got champagne and some water for the both of us, I hope that’s alright.” _Me too_ , Yato thought. He’d never tasted champagne before, but didn’t want to reveal his lack of refinement to Hiyori.

“It’s perfect,” he replied.

“I’m glad.

“So,” he asked, “how was your day?”

“Pretty good! I mean, I still can’t make sense of all that garbage from The God of Calamity’s lair, but work was good. A bird pooped on Yama during my broadcast. It was hysterical because all she could do was hold the camera still because we were live. I thought she was going to explode, it was all I could do just to keep a straight face.”

“I’m surprised you managed it at all,” Yato said, grinning. “I couldn’t have done it.”

“Ah yes, but I’m a pro,” she bragged, tilting her chin up haughtily, though her eyes held only humor.

“That you are.”

“Not to mention all the practice I got keeping a straight face all the times Yato kidnapped me.” His insides prickled guiltily.

_Liar._

“That must have been scary for you,” he ventured.

“It was at first, but he never really hurt me,” his heart leapt, “and he was so ridiculous,” that stung a bit. “He was kind of hard to be afraid of.” The description irked him a bit, but then he remembered what he’d said to Yukine just a few minutes prior. _Maybe I don’t want to be the bad guy anymore._

_Maybe I don’t know what I want to be anymore._

“But enough about him, let’s talk about us, something normal.”

“Right. Us. Normal,” he replied. A nasty voice in his head began whispering in his ear, _liar, liar, liar. You’re not normal, you’re the bad guy. You don’t get the girl. You don’t get to be happy. You’re the God of Calamity._ “Say Hiyori…” he began, unsure of where he was going with this. “Say I weren’t so normal, say I was incredibly scary and had evil eyes as a random, non-specific example; would you still like me?” Hiyori giggled.

“Of course, Manabu, you don’t judge a book by its cover! You don’t don’t judge people by how they look, you judge them by their actions.”

 _Yours are the actions of a villain, because that’s all you’ll ever be,_ his father said his memories.

“That seems kind of petty,” he replied. Hiyori snorted and gave Yato an amused look like she thought he was kidding.

“Right,” she laughed. “I like you for you. You’re funny, and kind, and sensitive, and you’re so thoughtful!” Heat rose into his face again. _Lies. They’re all lies. Lies you made up to fool her, because that’s what you do, you deceive people. You’re evil. You always have been, and you always will be._

 _Shut up, Dad,_ he thought.

“Thank you,” he avoided her eyes. “I like that you’re always there, and you’re a lot of fun to be around, and you make me feel safe,” he added quietly.

Hiyori’s eyes softened, and she set down her drink. She leaned across the table and it took him a moment to realize what she was doing. His heart jumped into his throat, choking him. He leaned forward as well. He felt her hand come to rest on his wrist as he closed his eyes, sighing into the blanket of safety that enveloped him.

The restaurant got louder suddenly. Hiyori pulled back with a shout of alarm and he opened his eyes.

“What?” He asked, instinctively reaching towards her.

He saw what was the matter then. He was wearing his leather gloves, the ones he was wearing as Yato, not as Manabu. He thought back to the feeling of her hand on his wrist, and he realized that she must have accidentally shifted his watch face.

“Don’t look at me!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands in front of his face. “I can explain, just give me a second!” His fingers fumbled with his watchface and he slid it into place. “Sorry about that!”

He was horrified when his voice rasped with the age of the prison warden. _Dammit, I used the wrong position._ He flinched when Hiyori snatched her glass from the table, expecting the drink to hit him in the face, but was surprised when it splashed onto his wrist instead. He felt the small shock as his watch short circuited, and he was himself again. She gave him a hurt and horrified look and stormed out of the restaurant. He hurried to follow her.

“Hiyori wait!” He cried, “I can explain!” She spun on her heels away from him. “What about everything you just said? About judging a book by its cover?”

She whirled around so fast he wasn’t sure even he could have matched it, and he took a step back at the look of sheer fury on her face.

“Well let’s take a look at the contents, shall we?” She snarled, advancing on him. He retreated. “You terrorized the city for years,” Yato flinched. “You _destroyed_ Metro Woman!” He looked away in shame, feeling his eyes burn. “And you actually got me to care about you!” Her voice broke on the word ‘care.’ His eyes snapped back to hers.

 _You actually got me to care about you._ He had known it, really, but knowing and believing were two different things. His father still spoke to him in his head, saying no one would ever love him, and that he was worthless and evil.

“Why are you so _evil_?” She whined, her volume diminishing as she deflated. _A villain is all you’ll ever be_. “What could you possibly hope to gain by tricking me?”

 _Are you in love with Hiyori? How exactly do you think this relationship is going to end? She’s going to find out sooner or later, and I’d put my money on sooner._ He cast his gaze to the ground and took a deep breath, feeling every wall he’d ever built crumbling. He let them fall and looked back at Hiyori without a mask, feeling tears spill down his cheeks.

“ _Oh_ ,” she said, voice thick. “Oh, I don’t believe this. Did you actually think that I would _ever_ be with you?”

“...No,” he replied, his voice a mere breath of wind, barely audible in the silence of the sleeping city.

Yato’s eyes fixed to his shoes as her heard her sigh and walk away. He didn’t have the courage to watch and see if she looked back at him. A sob escaped his lips. He stood motionless for a long moment before turning in the opposite direction. He took a step then stopped, taking on an entirely different kind of stillness as he tensed for a fight.

There was someone nearby, someone filled with malice so strong Yato could _feel_ it. He turned his head slowly to look down the alleyway and saw him, leaning against the wall with hunger in his eyes and madness in his grin.

_The man from the tapes._

* * *

 

Hiyori slammed the door behind her as the sob she’d been fighting to keep caged escaped her lips, denials crowding her thoughts. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. There was no way Yato could have been Manabu this whole time, but even as she struggled to deny it her mind summoned a memory from the night Yato had destroyed Metro Woman’s monument.

_That’s right, weren’t the real Manabu’s eyes brown? How come I never noticed that before?_

She recalled the soft eyes admiring her under the spotted shade at their picnic, glowing with affection and amusement as she told a funny story from her childhood, eyes wild with delight as he rode a bike for the first time; ice filled with evil celebrating his victory against Metro Woman. They couldn’t _possibly_ be the same eyes.

How could the soft boy she loved be the man she hated and feared?

She’d looked into his face tonight and seen Manabu in Yato’s tear stained face. He hadn’t even bothered to try and hide his pain, he’d worn it openly for her to see.

She walked numbly to her couch and buried her face in one of the pillows, hiding even though there was no one to see.

* * *

 

“So, there you are,” Yato said, voice hard. His heart was numb as his chest relaxed into that familiar chill, that cool indifference that his father had beaten into him; the mindset of a Yomi warrior he’d said. He welcomed it, it was a respite from the pain that had so quickly consumed him. “We’ve been looking for you. You’re a pretty hard guy to catch.”

“I’m here to serve you,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard Yato speak. He pushed himself off the wall and emerged from the shadows onto the street.

Yato assessed his opponent. There was a sword on his hilt, Yato recognized it. So, he _was_ from Yomi. No one else would have a sword like that. He walked with an unsteady grace, though his movements weren’t as graceful as Yato’s, he could see the control won through years of hard training.

“Who are you?”

“I am Rabo, God of Chaos.” _That’s it_ , Yato thought. _It’s chaos, that’s what I’m getting from him._

“There’s only room for one god in this town, and that’s me.”

“Allow me to serve you, oh fierce deity. I desire only to serve humbly at your feet.”

“Calling yourself a god is hardly humble. Do you have the stuff to back it up?”

“I have the power of Takamagahara and Yomi.”

“I’m a Yomi warrior, and I killed Metro Woman. What makes you think you’re anything more than an ant to be crushed under my boot?”

“Allow me to prove it!” Rabo exclaimed eagerly, eyes aflame with demented glee. “Allow me to kill that woman!”

“ _What?_ ” Yato snarled. His cheeks were still from dried tears, his eyes sticky and swollen.

“How dare that charlatan speak to you in that way? How _dare_ she believe herself to be your equal? Allow me to slay her to free you from the tyranny she has over your heart so that we may rule this city together and forge our alliance in her blood! After that I shall destroy that disgusting _child_ who softened your heart-” A new kind of fury, more potent and hot than he had ever felt before surged within him at the threat on Yukine.

Yato moved faster than Rabo’s eyes could see. He was standing across the street, engulfed in frozen rage, and then he was standing at the mouth of the alleyway, looking into a man-sized hole in the wall, listening to Rabo crash through layers of brick.

“You die tonight, God of Chaos. There will be no mercy from the God of Calamity.” Yato’s growled, and though he had no weapon, he wouldn’t need one to tear this so-called god of chaos limb from limb and wash the streets with his blood.

The noise from the attack and crashing walls was drawing attention, and the people of Metro City were taking to the streets like ants whose hill had been disturbed. _Fools,_ he thought derisively. Didn’t they know to stay away when their betters were fighting? They would die if caught in the middle of this fight, neither Yato nor Rabo cared to spare them. A deranged giggle floated from the darkness towards Yato, and the crowd stirred uneasily. Yato stood motionless, waiting for Rabo to emerge from the tunnel of destruction.

“I _thought_ you would be resistant. Those _people_ still have you under their spell. But don’t worry, I will free you from their burden, so the world can once again feel the weight of your wickedness.”

“You won’t be doing anything, because tonight is your last night alive.”

Yato was thrown off his feet and into the air by a concussive punch as Rabo used all the strength he had gained by Yato’s own recklessness. Yato’s ribs cracked and he thought his lungs might collapse under the pressure. He crashed into the glass side of a skyscraper and tumbled out the other end, broken glass leaving trails of red on his exposed skin. Rabo was already there when Yato started to fall, delivering a kick that sent Yato crashing to the ground, pavement crumbling when he hit.

Yato coughed wetly and tasted blood. _This is bad_ , he thought. _He’s even more powerful than I thought he would be. I might not be able to beat him, especially unarmed. Why the hell didn’t I bring my sword?_

“Don’t you see, God of Calamity?” Rabo called, hovering fifty feet in the air. He threw his arms wide. “I can help you rule all of this! We can work together. I _am_ strong enough to be your servant!”

“Please,” Yato scoffed, wiping blood from his chin. “You call that a hit? My son could do better, and he’s only human.”

“That _child_ ,” Rabo hissed, sounding disgusted, “will drown in a pool of his own blood.”

“If you threaten him again I will make your death last for days. You think you know agony now, but you’re wrong. Stay the hell away from _my family_.”

“We are Yomi, our only family are our blades and the blood we wash them with.”

“Your blood is unworthy to rinse the dirt off my shoes, you filthy weakling. It took being infused with the power of Takamagahara for you to even whine ‘notice me notice me.’ Did it take their power to give you courage?” Rabo’s face lit with fury.

“How dare you suggest that I am lower than those scum?” Yato snorted, climbing painfully out of his crater.

“Drop the act, you’re no older than I am, meaning you were a child when Yomi and Takamagahara died, just like I was. You have no idea what it was like on their planet or even why you hated them. Quit pretending to hate them just to feel like you’re Yomi.”

“I _am_ a Yomi warrior, and if I have to defeat you to prove it, then I will!” He shouted.

Yato eyed Rabo warily, there was definitely something wrong with him. _He’s crazy_. He glanced around at the crowd surrounding them and rolled his eyes. _Idiot humans, running towards danger like moths to a flame._

Yato had no weapon, but it would be simple enough to liberate Rabo’s weapon from him and use it to slit his throat, or spill his guts, or quarter him and feed him to the dogs. He crouched down then pushed off, easily leaping the fifty-foot vertical gap between them. He took hold of Rabo’s long silver hair, grimacing when he discovered it was greasy. Apparently, gods of chaos didn’t wash their hair. Yato yanked Rabo’s head back and snatched a piece of jagged glass that was caught in his clothe and dragged it viciously across Rabo’s throat, expecting the people below them to be showered in blood. The glass broke against Rabo’s skin, causing more damage to Yato than Rabo.

“Wha-” was all he managed before Rabo reached back and flung Yato down the street by the back of his shirt. The crowds couldn’t move out of the way fast enough and Yato crashed into them. He was certain several people were injured, but they softened his landing. He shoved the limbs out of the way as he climbed to his feet, treading on people who didn’t get out of his way fast enough. “No,” he breathed, horrified.

“YES!” Rabo cried, looking delighted as he soared towards Yato. “You have gifted me with invulnerability!”

“Even you will be vulnerable to the steel of Yomi,” Yato growled. I won’t always be unarmed.”

“You will see, once I kill that woman and child.”

“Stay away from them! Gods of Calamity have no mercy!”

“And neither do Gods of Chaos.” Yato vaulted into the air again, and this time Rabo drew his sword. Yato barely had time to scorn drawing a sword against an unarmed opponent before he was nearly sliced in half. He was glad he’d changed into the Yomi shirt, or that blow might have killed him.

This time the onlookers _were_ showered with blood, but it was Yato’s. He was sent flying again. _I can’t do this,_ he thought. _I need my armor and my sword._ He collided with the ground hard enough to crack the pavement again, his shoulder cracking along with it. _The invisible car,_ he thought. _It’s just a street away._ He turned and fled into the alley, holding his stomach closed with his good hand and running as fast as he could.

His stomach would heal soon enough, but he needed his armor and weapons, and he needed to get to Yukine and Hiyori. He whipped out his phone, thankfully still intact, and sent Yukine a nine one one text, warning him to take cover. He leaped into the invisible car and gunned it down the empty road in the direction of Hiyori’s apartment. He had to get to her before Rabo did. He _had_ to.

 

* * *

 

Rabo drifted slowly to the ground, grinning madly at the idiotic humans gathering around where he was set to land, cheering. A man he recognized as the mayor stepped forward, grinning.

“We’re saved!” He cried. “Thank you so much! Please tell us your name, hero.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call myself a hero,” Rabo rumbled.

The mayor’s face froze in the transition between relief and dawning horror as steal slid into flesh and his blood spilled. Silence fell as the mayor’s body slowly collapsed under its own weight. Someone screamed when his body hit the ground. The crowd scattered.


	10. Those Secret Lairs in Superhero Movies Don't Seem Very Comfy

Yato pulled straight onto the curb outside Hiyori’s building, tires screeching. He leapt from the car and raced into the building, leaving bread crumbs of blood; a smeared scarlet handprint on the glass door, trembling lines of red on the granite welcome desk, a smear of crimson on the buzzer to Hiyori’s apartment, a smudged rose on the elevator call button, drops like rain across the floor.

The three-minute elevator ride was agony. Every second new images of the horrors that awaited him assaulted his imagination. Rabo could _fly._ He could have made it here, slaughtered Hiyori, and left again with time to spare. Rabo had nearly killed _him_ and he was a Yomi, there was no way a human like Hiyori would stand a chance. He prayed she was safe, he prayed Yukine was hiding, he prayed that in the short time he spent in the elevator he hadn’t become suddenly and horribly alone. The door opened, and he shot out, crashing into the walls and stumbling, creating smears of blood everywhere. His vision was starting to blur, but he had to get to Hiyori.

“HIYORI!” He screeched, pounding on the door while using it for support. Blood stained walls and spilled intestines haunted his imagination. “Hiyori are you in there?” He paused to listen, for cries for help, her telling him to ‘go away,’ anything that would let him know she was alive. “HIYORI!” His stomach sank with every second that passed in silence. “Are you alive? Please, _please_ be alright!” No response.

He took a step back and threw himself at the door, strong enough even now to send it crashing to the ground. The idea that she might be giving him the silent treatment didn’t occur to Yato until he saw her standing in her kitchen, unharmed, and looking livid. Relief encompassed him, and he shot across the room, overestimating his balance and under estimating how much he was bleeding. His blood slicked the tile floor and pulled his feet out from under him bringing them both crashing to the ground.

“Yato what the hell?” She shrieked, pushing him off her. “Why are you all wet- is that _blood_?”

“Why didn’t you answer me?” He asked desperately, gripping her shoulders, “I thought you were dead!” Hiyori gaped at him, face pale and eyes wide. He probably looked terrible, covered in dirt, broken glass, and blood with eyes full of tears.

“Why would you think I was dead?” She asked, prying his fingers from her arms and looking, disgusted, at her ruined dress. She was nearly as covered in Yato’s blood as he was.

“There’s someone trying to kill you and Yukine, Hiyori! He just nearly killed me! We have to go find Yukine and get the two of you to safety!”

“Wait, wait, wait slow down!”

“There’s no time!”

“Well, make time! Who is trying to kill me? Is this his blood?” She hadn’t noticed his wound yet, hidden beneath the arm that was holding his insides in.

“No, it’s all my blood, sorry about the mess.” Hiyori waved a hand dismissively.

“Why do you think he’s trying to kill me?”

“He’s from Yomi and he’s obsessed with me and he thinks you and Yukine are making me soft. We have to go _right now_ he’s going to kill Yukine to try and make me The God of Calamity I’m supposed to be or whatever. I have to get back to the secret lair to get my armor and weapons or it’s all over.”

“What do you mean he’s from Yomi? I thought you were the last one!”

Yato struggled to his feet, swaying dangerously, attempting to pull Hiyori with his wounded arm. His vision flared white and he wrapped his injured arm around his middle instead, attempting to grab Hiyori with his good arm. Her jaw went slack as she caught sight of his split stomach.

“So did I but there’s no time to explain! He’s _trying to kill my son_! Get _up_!” Hiyori stood and he dragged her over the fallen door and to the elevator, barely staying upright. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hiyori looking around, horror struck, at the blood he’d somehow managed to get on everything.

“I didn’t think there was a person alive who could do this to you.”

“That makes two of us,” he replied, dragging her into the elevator and pushing the button for the first floor. He leaned heavily against the railing.

“Explain to me exactly what happened.”

“Okay so when you broke into the lair and found that gun and fired it? It was an infuser gun designed to give the powers of Metro Woman to whoever it hit.”

“Wait, what?”

“But apparently since I’m the God of Calamity disaster follows me, and it hit some psycho who also escaped the planet death and is for some reason fixated on me. He has it in his head that I’m too soft to be a proper supervillain and that it’s because of you and Yukine. He has the powers of me _and_ Metro Woman and he knows where out lair is, and we have to get there _right now_. I don’t know where Yukine is, but if he’s there alone when Rabo-” his throat closed around that thought and he gasped, knees collapsing. Hiyori offered her arm and he took it gratefully, allowing her to help him to the car.

“I’m sure Yukine is hiding and safe. He’s a smart boy, he’s probably well hidden.”

“Or when I sent him the nine one one text he went straight to the lair if he wasn’t there already to grab everything that isn’t nailed down.” Hiyori bit her lip. She knew as well as Yato did that that was exactly what Yukine had done.

* * *

 

“Brain bots!” Yukine shouted, lobbing a case containing all of Yato’s armor into the air while he pulled on the protective shirt Yato had made for him. He tucked his new dehydration gun into his belt, looking around for anything that could be of use, anything that maybe could be used to save his life. His eyes landed on the infuser gun. He picked it up and switched it to diffuse. He got out his phone and sent a secret message to Yato.

 _In the secret hideout, sending brain bots to your coordinates with your weapons and armor. I have the diffuser gun._ A reply came back almost at once.

_HE COULD BE COMING YUKINE HIDE DO NOT ENGAGE I’M ON MY WAY KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE SECURITY FEED AND RUN IF YOU SEE HIM COMING._

Yukine nodded, then bit his lips. There weren’t very many places to hide here, except...

* * *

 

Hiyori blasted through the door to the secret hideout and squealed to a halt, jostling Yato, who was so pale she was afraid he was going to die. He cried out in pain, but threw his door open, tumbling to the ground.

“YUKINE! YUKINE ARE YOU HERE?” Silence. “ _YUKINE_!”

“I’m here,” a tremulous voice replied. “Please help me.” While Hiyori was cast her gaze around for the source Yato was already ripping off the air vent cover and dragging a trembling Yukine into his arms and out of the darkness. “I-it was the only place to hide,” Yukine said weakly.

“It was perfect,” Yato replied, pulling Yukine to his chest and rocking them back and forth. “You did so good. It’s alright, I’m here now. You’re safe.” Yukine nodded into Yato’s neck, still trembling. There was a long moment of silence in which the two of them reigned in their fear.

“Y-you’re covered in blood,” Yukine said, his voice much stronger than before.

“It’s alright, it’s mostly stopped bleeding.”

“Brain bots get the first aid kit.”

“Put it in the car with the rest,” Yato ordered. The brain bots had met them halfway and dumped the things that Yukine sent into the open windows. “Grab all of my protective gear and any weapon you can find, quickly. We need to get out of here.” Yukine nodded and hoisted Yato to his feet, supporting most of his weight.

“Where are we going?” Yukine asked, eyeing Hiyori and her bloodstained dress, wondering what exactly had happened on their date.

“I know a place,” she said. Yukine raised his eyebrows at Yato, who shrugged.

“Works for me.” Yukine set Yato down in the passenger seat and climbed into the back, rifling through the large pile of things to look for the first aid kit.

“Now that we have Yukine drive slowly to avoid detection. Yukine, pass me my armor, I want to get it on in case anything happens.”

“Not until we’ve seen to that wound,” Yukine said sternly. Hiyori sighed as she pulled out of the lair, did they _always_ have to argue?

“It’s already closed! I’m not even bleeding anymore!” Yato turned around to look at Yukine and saw his jaw set firmly. “ _Fine._ But hand me my sword!” Yukine conceded.

“Here’s one, and two,” he said, passing them forward. Yato recoiled at the sight of his father’s sword.

“I don’t think-” he began.

“Uh-uh,” Yukine cut him off. “I climbed into a vent, so you can use this sword. It’s face your fears day.”

“...fine.” Yato took it gingerly. “But I’m not happy.”

“That makes two of us.” Hiyori snorted, and the boys looked at her curiously.

“You two are exactly the same,” she said, smiling softly.

“Are not!” They replied, then grimaced. They both scoffed and looked in opposite directions and Hiyori laughed again.

“Hiyori where are we going?” Yato asked, peering out the window. They appeared to be leaving the city.

“To a place I know for a fact that that guy doesn’t know about, because even you don’t know about it.”

“And where is that?”

* * *

 

Kazuma jumped when the proximity alarm went off. He looked around frantically, then sprinted into the control room to view the security feed. He dismissed the news covering the extensive damage the so-called God of Chaos was doing. He was shocked when Hiyori appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, covered in blood, and typed the passcode to open the garage door.

 _Is that the invisible car?_ He wondered as she climbed back into nothingness and disappeared. _How did she get it?_ He was even more surprised when she pulled into the garage and engaged the hydraulic lift that would lower her into the secret hideout, where he was. Had Viina told her about it? She’d had to, there was no other way for Hiyori to know about all of this. He supposed he would get answers when the lift arrived.

Though he didn’t think he would need it he took the hand gun from its safe and tucked it in the back of his waistband. He walked into the hideout’s garage and stood with his arms folded as the hydraulic lift lowered the now visible invisible car into view. Hiyori must have turned off the invisibility booster.

Of all the things he was prepared for, a bruised and bloody Yato, covered in grime from battle and carrying _two_ swords appearing from the passenger side and supporting himself on the hood was _not_ one of them.

“Kazuma,” he said, sounding surprised.

That made two of them. Yato threw his arm out protectively as the boy he’d never seen in person before appeared from inside the car, looking worried. Yato flicked his sword a few inches out of its sheath in a silent threat. Kazuma didn’t bother to wonder how Yato had known about the gun, merely placing it on the ground and kicking it away. Yato half collapsed and Yukine caught him, muttering something angrily.

“What are you all doing here?” Kazuma asked, looking from face to face.

“We needed someplace safe to hide, I’m sorry, I didn’t think there would be anyone here.”

“It’s fine, it’s nice to finally meet the two of you. Hello Yukine, Hiyori, I’m Kazuma.”

He looked back at Yato, who despite hardly being able to support himself, was still trying to stand between Kazuma and an increasingly annoyed Yukine. Why? Why was Yato trying to act as a barrier between the two? Did Yato think Kazuma would hurt Yukine? Why?

 _Revenge_ , a voice in his head said. _It’s the way things work in Yato’s world, and he doesn’t know you don’t have a reason to want revenge._

“Come with me,” Kazuma said, “there’s something you need to see.”

* * *

 

Yato’s jaw dropped and his knees collapsed, although the second may have been more to do with blood loss and less a reaction to seeing Viina laying there, unconscious, but alive. Yukine looked faintly green as he struggled with Yato’s deadweight, and Hiyori was actively crying. Kazuma stepped forward to take half of Yato’s weight, thinking that maybe his big reveal should have waited until Yato had been treated. Yato’s eyes were fixed on Viina, his expression unreadable.

“Um, Yato?” Kazuma ventured.

“Fuck,” Yato said. “Unbelievable.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Yukine added.

“What? I feel like I’m missing something.”

“Yato created Rabo by accident,” Hiyori supplied, apparently the only one able to voice her thoughts. “He was trying to create a hero to fight with, because everything was too easy without Bishamon. If he’d known she was alive none of this would be happening.”

“I don’t fucking believe it,” Yato said, clenching his fists.

Hiyori placed a comforting hand on his arm, but he threw it off and stormed out of the room, clutching the walls for support. Kazuma wondered about the hurt in her expression as she watched him go. Yukine sighed angrily and stared for a long moment at Bishamon’s sleeping form before turning hard eyes on Hiyori.

“So,” he said simply, though it sounded more like an accusation. Hiyori blushed and looked away, and Kazuma couldn’t resist asking anymore.

“Can I ask what the three of you are doing together?”

“Hiyori is my new step mom,” Yukine replied sardonically. Kazuma blinked in surprise.

“Yukine!” Hiyori protested. He rolled his eyes.

“Hiyori was totally dating Yato, except Yato was pretending to be someone else, and my guess is last night on their date she figured it out and dumped his ass, which is why Yato wouldn’t let her touch him.” Kazuma was sure Yukine was kidding until he asked, “did he cry, or did you let him down easy?” The fury in his tone was real, as was the shame in Hiyori’s eyes when she looked away.

“He cried.”

“Great,” Yukine snapped. “Now’s he’s got to fight someone with the power of him _and_ her, all with a broken heart.”

“Hey! He’s the one who lied to _me_!” She snapped, Yukine scoffed and left the room. Kazuma gave Hiyori a peculiar look.

“Care to fill me in? I’m a little lost.”

* * *

 

Yukine found Yato collapsed on the couch, deathly pale, and gripping the broken remains of what might have once been an award for service to the city. Yukine rolled his eyes.

“Oh, I see, it’s only childish and immature when _I_ break things.” Yato didn’t react. “So, it ended up being sooner, huh?”

“You were right,” Yato said quietly. “She hates me.”

“Nah,” Yukine said, surprising Yato. “She’s just angry. If she hated you she would have come here on her own and left you and me out in the cold. She still likes you, she just needs some time. She’s upset over being lied too.”

“What do you know,” Yato said hollowly, “you’re thirteen.”

“I _know_ that you’re going to let me tend to that wound now, and then you’ll put on your armor and you’ll feel better.”

“What about yours?” Yato asked, dropping the trophy in his hands and attempting to push himself into an upright position. Yukine pulled the neckline of his shirt to the side and grinned.

“I’m already wearing it underneath this shirt.” Yato grinned. “Better safe than sorry.”

“I agree!” Yato said.

Yukine returned to the car to retrieve the first aid kit. While he was fishing around in the backseat he saw something ridiculous and bedazzled and threw it over his arm to ask Yato about. He grabbed the first aid kit and returned to Yato’s side.

“Yato, I think the brain bots need to be reprogrammed, look-” he held up the costume that he’d found in the car. Yato’s face lit up. “You asked for armor, not something from a figure skaters closet rejects.”

“Hey! I made that myself! I wore it during my first few tries to take over the city!”

“You made all of them yourself,” Yukine reminded him, tossing the outfit to the side.

“Yeah but that one was special!”

Yukine rolled his eyes and knelt beside Yato, setting the first aid kit down and leaning over to peel off his ruined shirt.

“Fuck,” Yukine breathed when he saw the extent of the damage.

“Language!” Yukine paled as he took in the deep gash across Yato’s gut.

“He almost _eviscerated_ you!”

“I’m fine-”

“You’re not!” Yukine shouted, glaring up at Yato with tear filled eyes. “You nearly _died!_ What were you thinking, fighting this guy without protection or a weapon? You know what? You’re wearing your dad’s as well. You’re wearing two layers of armor when you fight this guy again!”

“Two layers will impede my movement!” Yato flinched at the look in Yukine’s eyes, it was the same feeling Yato had had when he’d been so terrified Rabo would get to Yukine

“Alright, I’ll wear a protective undershirt under the armor, but any more than that would weigh me down and put me at a disadvantage.” Yukine bit his lip but nodded in agreement. He took a wet rag and began cleaning off Yato’s stomach, washing away the dried blood as gently as he could, and pausing every time Yato winced.

“I’m alright,” he kept saying. Yukine gulped when the wound was clean, and he could tell more about it. It was obviously very deep, though Yato’s accelerated healing had already sealed it so it looked a day old.

Yukine’s hands were sure and steady as he wrapped Yato’s torso in bandages, and Yato felt a little alarmed at how familiar this scene felt. Yukine was just a child and already an expert in wrapping wounds, and it was Yato’s fault. Maybe he should have dropped out of the villain game to focus on raising Yukine, so he could have had a semblance of a normal life. Then again it _had_ been Yukine who had offered to take care of his injuries every time he came home hurt, and who had insisted on joining the operations to begin with. Originally, Yato hadn’t wanted him anywhere near them.

“Almost done,” Yukine said gently, wrapping the bandage around him one final time before tying it off. “Now let me help you with your clothes.”

* * *

 

Kazuma and Hiyori entered the room right as Yukine and Yato were finishing getting Yato dressed. Yukine was lacing up his left boot because Yato couldn’t bend over, and Yato was wrestling his sore arm into a shirt sleeve. He glanced up at Kazuma and Hiyori as they entered together, narrowed his eyes, and looked away sulkily.

Yukine rolled his eyes and shook his head, getting to his feet and straightening Yato’s shirt. Yato gritted his teeth and strode out of the room. Yukine was about to follow him and tell him to suck it up when he reappeared, carrying an older armor that Yukine actually recognized. He walked straight to Hiyori and held it out, avoiding eye contact.

“Here, it’s not the best, but it’ll protect you. That crazy lady’s armor won’t fit you.”

“Um, thanks,” she said, accepting the armor. Yukine made a gagging face at their blushing faces behind Yato’s back, and Kazuma grinned in response.

Kazuma’s eyes landed on the suit Yukine had discarded on the couch and his eyes lit up. He lifted it and held it out before him, taking in all the bedazzled glory.

“I _remember_ this suit!” He exclaimed. Yato grinned.

“You were wearing this the first time you tried to take over the city! It was the first time I’d seen you in years! I’ve never seen it up close before, did you make this yourself?” Yato beamed and stepped closer to Kazuma, pointing to different features of the suit.

“Yeah, I did all the beading by hand, it took me three days and nights with no sleep, but doesn’t it look awesome?”

“It held up well considering everything Viina did to you that day.” Yato grimaced.

“It’s what made me stop bedazzling my outfits, she tore half of them off, and after I fixed it I realized that it was too high maintenance.” Kazuma chuckled.

“My favorite one of your outfits was the one from the ‘Hit Me Baby One More Time’ music video.”

“I was cosplaying, and that crazy bitch just attacked me! I wasn’t even doing anything _wrong_!” Yato protested. Kazuma wrapped an arm around his stomach and laughed in earnest. Yukine smiled at the easy banter of lifelong friends, he’d never gotten to see Yato like this before.

“What about that other time, on Halloween when we were twenty?”

“I was Al Capone!”

“Oh my God, do you remember crashing that masquerade party that Viina and I attended and thinking she wouldn’t recognize you just because you were wearing that mask?”

“I should have gone for a full-face mask, that was not a good night for me.”

“I’ve always been partial to the outfit he wore the first time he kidnapped me,” Hiyori chimed in.

“So, do you have any food?” Yato asked abruptly, ignoring Hiyori. “I’m starving.”

“Yeah, the kitchen is this way,” Kazuma said, giving Hiyori a sympathetic look.

* * *

 

They ate in awkward silence as Yato and Hiyori avoided each other’s gaze while trying to sneak looks while the other wasn’t paying attention. The result was the two of them occasionally making eye contact and turning beet red before hurriedly looking away again. It would have been amusing if Yukine hadn’t found it all extremely frustrating. Kazuma, however, seemed to be in good spirits, and Yukine wondered what that was about.

“So, did Hiyori fill you in on the apocalypse?” Yukine asked, breaking the silence and startling Yato and Hiyori, who had been on a course for another awkward eye contact.

“On the things she knew, but I still have some questions if you don’t mind.”

“‘Ike ‘at?” Yato asked through a mouth full of pasta.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Yukine scolded. “The Heimlich would literally rip you in half right now.” Yato looked like he wanted to protest, but Yukine was right, so he swallowed and tried again.

“Like what?”

“She said this man was from Yomi?” Yato nodded grimly.

“I thought I was the only one left, but apparently his parents had the same idea as mine did. He must have been sent on an escape pod just like me.”

“Do you know anything else about him?”

“His name is Rabo, he calls himself ‘God of Chaos’ he tried to get me to accept him as a servant or something, he hates Yukine and Hiyori because he thinks they make me ‘soft.’”

“And he challenged you to a fight last night?”

“Um, no. I attacked him after he threatened Yukine.”

“You _what?_ You made it sound like he just attacked you!” Yukine shouted. “You attacked him without a weapon?”

“I’m sorry!” Yato said. “I wasn’t thinking clearly! I was mad because he lurked in the shadows and watched me get dumped!”

“And I was right, and you shouldn’t have gone on that date!”

“You couldn’t possibly have known _this_ was going to happen!”

“So, what are you going to do now?” Kazuma cut in.

“What else? I’m going to tear him to pieces and use his blood to paint my name over the city, so no one ever challenges me again. Yukine and Hiyori will stay here where it’s safe, and you can get them out of if things go sideways.

“No way!” Yukine snapped.

“Yes way!” Yato shouted back. “He’s after the two of you and I am _not_ letting either of you get hurt!”

“And what am _I_ supposed to do if you get yourself killed trying to do this on your own?”

“Get used to calling Bishamon ‘mom.’”

“You’re delusional if you think I’m letting you take this on, on your own.”

“I agree with Yukine,” Hiyori said. “He’s threatening us, and it makes it our business. We already know what he’ll do to you alone. You need a strategy. You need to let us help.” Yato pushed away the warmth that came with the information that Hiyori still wanted to help him.

“So, what do you suggest, strapping on my armor and fighting him next to me?” He asked sardonically. “He’d kill you before you could even blink.”

“I have a plan,” she said, eyes glinting mischievously.

 


	11. The Eye of The Storm Seems Like the Scariest Part Because There is Destruction All Around You and Nothing You Can Do About It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One hundred years of backstory

 “NO MISSES ANGRY PANTS _PLEASE_ DON’T EXPELL YATO HE IS MY SAVIOR! HE SAVED MY LIFE! I’M SO WITTLE! THE WITTLEST BOY! EVERYONE IS ALWAYS MEAN TO ME BECAUSE MY GLASSES ARE BIGGER THAN MY FACE!” Yato stumbled into the room, wearing a pair of enormous glasses that came from who knows where. Hiyori looked over at Kazuma, who looked mortified.

“How did you find those? Why were you going through my stuff?” He stood and tried to snatch the glasses away from Yato, who ducked under his arms and crashed into a table. Random knick-knacks tumbled to the ground as Yato righted himself, placing a hand on the wall for support.

He had mostly recovered from the attack the, but his lack of grace and superhuman speed let everyone know he was still recovering. The weight of what was waiting for them outside the walls of this house still hung heavy in the air, and Hiyori had yet to share her plan, knowing she had to present it carefully or Yato would never agree. They had to wait to attack until Yato was more capable of moving under his own power anyway, however, he still found time to have some fun.

“I can’t believe you still have these! Are they the same one’s you wore when we were ten?”

“Viina wouldn’t let me throw them away!” Yato cackled and raised his voice to a high-pitched squeak.

“Yato, Viina, if the two of you don’t start behaving I won’t bring you pudding cups for a week!” Even Kazuma chuckled. He whipped off his glasses to retaliate with an impression of his own.

 “I am an evil being from another world, born only to kill and cry when you won’t share your pudding with me.” Yukine snorted and Hiyori pressed a hand to her mouth to keep her laughter contained.

“I’m just going to cry every time something doesn’t go my way!”

“My name is Yato… and I threw a fit this morning because the teacher caught me smuggling a cat into class under my shirt.” The room rang with laughter at the mental image of a young Yato stuffing a feline under his shirt and trying to pretend it wasn’t there.

“My name is Kazuma and I wouldn’t help my best friend hide a cat because I have no soul!” Kazuma cackled, putting his glasses back on and taking Yato by the arm, guiding him to a chair to sit as he started swaying dangerously again. Yato’s face glowed with laughter as he continued to tease Kazuma lightly about events Hiyori knew nothing about.

Hiyori _wanted_ to hate Yato, not only for lying to her but for all the crimes he’d committed and the lives he’d taken, but it was hard to hate him as the God of Calamity when she kept seeing the pieces of Manabu shining through. She recalled the words she’d said to him when they searched his old elementary school. _‘There’s another side to Yato you and I haven’t seen. He shows it to Yukine, and he showed it to this boy.’_ It was only now she was starting to realize that maybe he’d shown it to her too.

* * *

 

“I want you to tell me about Yato,” Hiyori said, cornering Kazuma in Bishamon’s bedroom.

“What?” He asked nervously, knowing that Yato would _not_ like that, also knowing that that was probably why Hiyori had asked him, not Yato.

“I know the three of you went to school together, and that you and Yato were friends. I know that you two kept in contact later in life. I’ve seen you two interact, you’re his best friend. I want to know everything about him, and I want you to tell me.”

“Um- I’m not sure that’s-”

“And you’re _going_ to do it because I’m asking you because I’m tired of all the lies. Yato isn’t going to tell me, but I deserve answers.”

Kazuma looked into her eyes and saw only fierce determination there, no malice. She wasn’t backing down, and she didn’t seem to want the information to hurt Yato. Maybe it was time to tell someone, he thought, and in her he saw an opportunity to unload all the sins he’d been carrying for a lifetime.

“Alright,” he said. “I’m going to start from the beginning. Sit down. It’s a long story.”

 “Yato and Bishamon are refugees from sister planets that were consumed by a black hole. They were sent away by their parents in a last-ditch effort to save their lives. The only things we know about these planets are that Yomi was famous for turning out many assassins and mercenaries, and that Takamagahara created many humanitarians and philosophers, though they turned out their fair share of fighters as well.

“Viina insists all people from Yomi are evil, and Yato thinks everyone from Takamagahara is weak and pretentious. When they were sent away they were around five. They have hazy memories of their home planets, and of the hatred between them, even if they didn’t understand it at the time. Their escape pods both arrived on Earth, though the circumstances they fell into were vastly different.

 “Viina was taken in by a wealthy family who loved her like she was their own, and though she always missed her birth parents she appreciated and loved her foster family. Yato was not so lucky, he fell into the hands of a man that Viina calls ‘The Sorcerer.’ He was apparently an infamous criminal on Takamagahara, one of the few natives ever convicted of killing another person in cold blood. He escaped their maximum-security prison years before the planet died. The Takamagahara authorities never found him. When he found Yato he knew exactly who he was.”

“Yomi,” Hiyori said, not liking at all where she felt this story heading.

“He was evil to his core, even Yato says so. In Yato, a helpless child, he saw an opportunity to raise his own personal assassin to do his bidding, and he took it. He trained Yato to fight, and to kill, for his entire life, beating him when he refused. By the time we met he’d already killed dozens of people. It was all Yato had ever known, but I can tell you it was never in his nature. He used to run away from home a lot, and that’s how we met. He started showing up to school because he was never allowed to be around kids his own age, and he just wanted to be normal.

“I was always bullied in school for being the smallest boy in class with the biggest glasses,” he said this with some level of irony, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose. Hiyori remembered Yato’s impressions from earlier. “In Yato’s first week he saved me from the bigger boys, seeing them hurting me and Yato deciding he wasn’t going to let them. Maybe it was because he saw himself in me, helpless and alone, I don’t know. Yato moved so fast, and fought so brutally, even as a child. He fought with a stick like it was a sword, and he almost killed those other boys. He broke a wrist, a shoulder, a knee, and a couple of ribs before the adults managed to drag him off.

“They were going to expel him, but he saved me, and I needed someone to protect me back then. I cried and screamed and begged, and eventually they gave in and let Yato stay. It’s pretty hard to say no to a boy that small who is crying that much,” he smirked.

“From then on Yato and I were best friends. Somehow Viina and Yato recognized each other for what they were and never really got along, but I would cry every time they argued, so eventually they stopped arguing and tolerated each other for my sake.” He smiled again, and Hiyori got the distinct impression that he had been crying fake tears. Kazuma pointed to a photo on the dresser of three small children, the two boys holding hands and the girl standing with her arm linked with the boy with glasses.

“They tolerated each other until the incident that is,” Kazuma said darkly.

“The school fire,” Hiyori offered, and Kazuma nodded.

“We were maybe ten at the time, and there was a fire at the school that killed several children.”

“I know, Yato started it, I saw the pictures.” Kazuma shook his head.

“No, Yato took the blame, but he didn’t start the fire. I did.” He paused, the pain in his voice evident. He took a deep breath. “Forgive me, I’ve never told anyone this before, not even Viina. She still thinks it was Yato. It’s the reason she hates him so much. A few of her friends died.”

“Why didn’t you come forward?” He away from her.

“I was too afraid to. All the adults were crying, the kids were screaming, and Yato looked so scared, so upset. I’d never seen him cry before, and he was my hero. He saved me again and again. When the fire started, he dragged me out of the building before a fireman picked us up and carried us away.

“I’ve never seen anything like it before or since. When the fireman told the teachers where he’d found us, they all turned on Yato. It was horrible. They just assumed he’d started the fire on purpose. They were yelling and calling him a killer and an evil little boy. I was too young at the time to realize how _sick_ it was, I was just scared. While they were yelling something came over Yato, like a shadow. He was so stiff and cold, but he stood up and said ‘that’s right. I started the fire, and I’m glad those kids are dead.’ He was protecting me, and I hid behind him all these years, even as Viina tried to kill him over and over. He never stopped protecting me, and I never stopped letting him.

“That’s awful,” Hiyori breathed.

“That was the day the entire world gave up on him, and the day he gave up on it right back. He stopped fighting to be good and started training to be bad, and he was _good_ at being bad. I didn’t see him again until the first time he tried to take the city over as the God of Calamity. I started looking for him and a few weeks later found him in a bar in a seedy part of town. We started meeting up in secret, and at first, he was the same as he’d been the day of the fire. Once he warmed up to me again I could tell he was an entirely different person than the boy I knew. He _liked_ killing, and he was proud of his atrocities.

“Over time I managed to get a few details about what his life had been like after he disappeared, but he was never as open as he used to be. When we were kids he would tell me _everything_ , but after what happened he shut down. Getting him to talk was like pulling teeth. The most success I ever had was when I figured out he was a lightweight. I got him drunk and managed to piece together a rough idea of everything that happened between Yato leaving school and becoming the God of Calamity.

“After the fire he went back to live with his father, who finished his training and showed no mercy, but Yato stopped fighting and became the monster his father wanted him to be. The whole world was against him, and he was against the world. His father sold his skills for money, there are probably dozens if not hundreds of cold cases that could be solved if Yato remembered all the people he’d killed. He kept training and killing until he was strong enough to kill his father, and once that was done he started his bloody campaign to take over the city.”

Hiyori remembered. She’d only been interning at channel seventy-four at the time. She’d made her career during Yato’s first epic takedown. The reporter that she’d been shadowing had been cowering in the aftermath of the fight, but Hiyori strode straight up to Bishamon and asked her name. “Metro Woman” was born.

“Everything changed two years ago when Yato found Yukine on the street, battered, and hiding from an abusive father, just like Yato had been.” Hiyori bit her lip, she hadn’t known that about Yukine’s past. “Yato took Yukine in, killed his father, and started raising Yukine like he was his own. Ever since then I’ve been seeing more and more of the Yato I knew when we were kids, and less of the God of Calamity.”

“Does Yukine know Yato killed his father?”

“It’s my understanding that Yukine asked him to do it.” Hiyori’s lips parted in shock.

“I-is that all?” Kazuma shook his head.

“I’m sure it’s far from the whole truth, but it’s all I know. Yato is so reserved. You’re the one that’s dating him, you probably know as much about what’s going on in his head as I do.”

“I doubt it, all he ever did was lie to me.”

“He lied about his identity, sure, but I bet he told you the truth about everything else. He desperately wants to be understood, he probably couldn’t help himself.”

“Thank you, Kazuma, for telling me.”

“Thank you for listening,” he said. “That secret has been weighing me down for years, it’s time someone knew the truth.” Hiyori nodded and left. Kazuma was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice when Viina’s hand moved on its own.

* * *

 

“I still don’t like it,” Yato said, arms crossed. His hair was wild from sleeping on the couch, but no one had bothered to tell him. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Right, you think you should let him paint the town red with your intestines,” Yukine snapped, glaring.

“Better me than you.” Yato’s voice was strong and he stood tall, his strength had returned with a good night’s sleep, signaling that it was time to start on their plan.

“Better for who?” Hiyori barked. “You or Yukine, who’ll be left parentless? Oh, I know, better for the citizens of Metro City, who aren’t even aware they’re relying on you to protect them.”

“He’s _my_ son. I decide what’s best for him. I could care less about anyone else. I’m a supervillain, remember? I’ve killed more people than you’ve ever met, and I enjoyed it, what’s a little more blood on my hands?” Yato glared coldly at Hiyori, but she didn’t flinch.

“And you think what’s best for me is to become an orphan,” Yukine said angrily, and Yato turned back to him. “Well I disagree, and I’m going to do what I want _anyway_.” Kazuma stepped between them with his hands raised in a gesture of peace.

“Okay, okay, let’s keep our heads on straight. Hiyori has a good plan. If you’re not happy with it let’s talk about why.”

“There’s no guarantee he’ll be fooled by the decoy. Even Yukine can tell that Yomi warriors move differently than normal humans. He may be able to tell I’m not really Yukine just from my walk.”

“You can practice walking like a normal person. It’s worth a shot, the element of surprise is a strong advantage,” Kazuma said. “Yukine and Hiyori walk like regular civilians so with the cloaking watch he won’t be able to pick them out of the crowd.”

“I still don’t like it, what if Rabo figures out Yukine is lying in wait with the diffuser gun and attacks him?”

“It’s a risk we have to take.” Yukine said. “I’ll be in the Takamagahara armor, and by then Hiyori is going to be across the street with the dehydration gun just in case. Besides, you’ll be distracting him while I use the diffuser gun.” Yato growled low in his throat and glared at nothing, Yukine folded his arms, unimpressed.

“I still don’t like it,” he said, though his voice held surrender and Hiyori visibly relaxed; Kazuma allowed himself a relieved smile. “There’s no way it all goes according to plan. No way.”

“That’s why you linked my computers to your brain bots and their cameras to give me a live feed of the battle, so I can give you directions.”

“We get it, you’re never going to be happy with Yukine in the fight,” Hiyori said, “but this is the best way.”

“Yukine isn’t the only one I’m worried about, Hiyori,” Yato said, his aggression falling away. “I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you either.” Hiyori blushed faintly and Yukine made a disgusted sound.

“Oh, gross. If you guys are going to do this now I’m leaving. Kazuma, want to help me make lunch?”

“Sure,” Kazuma replied, giving Yato a pointed look on his way out. Yato watched them leave before turning back to Hiyori.

“I think I owe you an apology for my behavior the other night,” she said.

“That would be nice, but we’ve got bigger things to worry about, don’t you think?” Yato asked, indicating the live news feeds of the destruction of Metro City displayed on the monitors. She sighed heavily.

“You’re right, but for the record I am sorry.” Yato nodded and looked away.

“I’m sorry I lied to you.”

“Why did you?”

“I-at first I was just trying to find out what you knew about me. You trusted me as Manabu, so I thought it was the perfect way to spy on you, to learn everything you did as you learned it and be able to prepare for your plans.”

“I guess that makes sense,” she said begrudgingly.

“And I liked the way I felt when I was around you, when you called me your partner. Hell, the first time you saw me as Manabu I was just embarrassed and didn’t want you to see me in my Capyper pajamas.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Falling in love with you was never part of the plan.” Hiyori sighed.

“It was never part of my plan either.” Yato looked up and met her eyes, and there was a long moment where what they had confessed balanced heavily in the air between them, then Yato chuckled bitterly. “What?”

“You had better not die, okay? Because if you do I won’t be able to make you the happiest girl in the world.” Hiyori let out a single huff of laughter.

“I’ll set a reminder on my phone, ‘Don’t die.’” Yato snorted.

“Right, and let the government know.”

“I don’t believe it, you really do think the cloud is the government spying on you.”

“It is!”

“You’re ridiculous!”

“It’s the truth! I bet you don’t believe in Santa either!” Hiyori opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again.

“Of course, I believe in Santa!” She said, hardly believing she was saying the words as they left her mouth. She knew she would probably regret this later, but when Yato’s face lit up like a Christmas tree she knew it would be worth it. “Last year he gave me a phone case by my favorite wrestler!”

“You like wrestling?” Yato asked, then deflated slightly. “Santa’s never brought me anything. It’s because I’m bad.” _Yukine was right, this is the saddest thing I’ve ever experienced._

“Oh, well, um, I’m sure you’re going to get something this year! Just think about all the good stuff you’ve done! You fixed the parks and the museums, and you’re going to save the city from the God of Chaos!”

“I also caused all those problems,” Yato said.

“Yeah, but you’re trying your best, you have a good heart Yato. I’m sure Santa is just waiting for you to realize that too!” She took his hand and smiled when what seemed like all the blood in his body rushed to his face, at least that meant he still _had_ blood.

“I’m just a killer, Hiyori, it’s all I’ll ever be. A villain.”

“I don’t believe that, and neither does Kazuma, he told me so,” she said gently. Yato swore softly. _You told her about the fire, didn’t you?_ “In fact, I’d say you’re his hero.”

“He lives with a hero.”

“And he still looks up to you, it’s obvious.” Hiyori did what she had been thinking of doing for a long while and pulled Yato into a hug. She felt the stiffness in his shoulders ease as he wrapped his arms around her and tucked his head into her shoulder. “Let’s hurry and go home, Yato.” His breath hitched, and he nodded, and she smiled into his hair.

“I promise I’ll keep you safe,” he said. They stood that way for several minutes before either of them moved.

“Hey Yato, Hiyori, food is ready,” Kazuma leaned into the room, then stopped short when he saw the two of them embracing. He gave Yato a smug look that said there _would_ be teasing later.

“Shut up, Kazuma,” Yato muttered, brushing past him into the kitchen, face flaming. Kazuma smiled at Hiyori then followed Yato into the kitchen, elbowing him repeatedly, leaving Hiyori alone in the living room feeling very flustered.

* * *

 

Rabo floated above the city, listening to the car alarms and sirens that blended together and drowned out the screaming of the dying citizenry. This felt _right._ His blood raced through his veins as he observed the destruction of the city that had thrown him out into the cold time and time again.

When he’d come here he’d been alone and scared, but like the God of Calamity had been, except he’d been found by a policeman and sent to live in a group home. The other children had whispered about him when they thought he wasn’t listening, saying he had eyes like the devil and that one day he would kill them all, still wearing his deranged smile.

He got his revenge by proving them right.

The institution they’d sent him too after that hadn’t been able to hold him for long and lay in ruins now. It’d been the first thing he’d destroyed after his fight with the God of Calamity, and he’d relished the screams and the scent of burning flesh as the workers and inmates went down with the building. It served them right.

The rest of his childhood he’d spent drifting from place to place, dismembering anyone who pissed him off, and hiding from authorities, until one night under a sky that threatened violence he saw him. A boy who moved like he did only with more grace, eyes shining like stars, hands blackened with blood. He knew that he was meant to be near this boy, to learn from him, to serve him, and he would do whatever it took to get him back and get rid of this weak man who took his place.

* * *

 

“Alright, repeat what you’re going to do one last time,” Yato said, turning around to face Yukine and Hiyori again before leaving to put on his armor.

“No!” They replied together.

“We’ve been over it three times now, we know it! You’re freaking out for nothing! We are as ready as we’re ever going to be!” Yukine exclaimed.

“Are you sure, because I feel like we really just need to go over it one more time!”

“Have you ever heard of over studying, Yato?” Kazuma asked, turning away from his computers with a stern look on his face.

“No.”

“It’s where you study for a test or project so much that it tires you out and when you get to the test you can’t remember anything you studied because your brain is tired. We know our positions, Yato, don’t over study. Go get dressed. Do you need Yukine to help you?”

“No, I’ve got it. I told you I’m practically back at one hundred percent.”

“Good. So, go get dressed.”

Yato left the room, grumbling, to put his armor on. Hiyori and Yukine were already wearing theirs. Yato’s face had gone all red and splotchy when Hiyori had emerged from the bathroom wearing the altered form of one of Yato’s old armors, and he’d stammered out a compliment about how she looked nice. Yukine had asked Kazuma if he could move in with him if Yato and Hiyori kept dating.

“Alright, alright, I’m ready,” Yato said, stepping back into the room in his full armor. Hiyori turned to look at him, and Yukine knew exactly how she felt when her jaw dropped _._ He’d had a similar reaction to the armor after all. Yato looked _badass_ and every bit the warrior he was always claiming to be.

Every inch of the armor was a shade of gray or black, making Yato look like he was made of shadow. Everything from his neck to his toes was covered, making his bright blue eyes stand out even more. The waistband was made to hold a sword, and Yato’s own blended in with the ensemble perfectly, though the pure white of his father’s blade contrasted starkly. The armor protected the places he was most likely to get hit and take detrimental damage without compromising his freedom of movement. A layered chest plate guarded his damaged stomach.

His determined expression completed the look that the armor cut and imagining his eyes cold and hard like a predator hunting its prey gave Yukine chills. If he were Rabo he’d turn and run the other direction when he saw Yato coming. Even if he didn’t, this armor would make it harder for Rabo to hurt Yato, so he wouldn’t be able to defeat him as easily as he had the other day. It had given Yato a fighting chance. Kazuma gave the armor an approving nod before turning back to his work. Yato noticed Hiyori staring and started fidgeting with his ponytail.

“You, um, look really cool,” she said, then turned away.

“Thanks.”

“Be sure to use protection, kids,” Yukine said dryly, “wouldn’t wanna practice unsafe standing across the room from each other and not touching.” Yato threw a couch pillow at Yukine’s head, which he dodged.

“Alright, the brain bots place Rabo as near the city square in the last hour, that’s where the operation begins. Is everyone ready?” Kazuma asked.

“Yes!”

 


	12. Name Something More Iconic Than Appearing From the Mist to 'Welcome to the Jungle'

Yato hurried down the street, glancing shiftily from side to side, the hood of Yukine’s green parka pulled low over his face. There were more people on the streets than he’d expected; apparently being two city blocks away from the worst of the destruction made them feel safe. There weren’t so many people they’d be in the way, however; Hiyori had made him promise to at least _try_ to avoid hurting innocent bystanders. A small voice made him stop in his tracks. He turned his head slightly to look down at a little girl holding her mother’s hand.

“Hey Momma,” Yukine said, probably hating every minute of being in this disguise. “Isn’t that the boy who was with the God of Clams? Do you think he’s friendly?” Yato’s brow twitched in annoyance. _You’re going to get it, Yukine. God of Clams._

“You mean the God of Calamity, and no I don’t think so, darling, let’s go!” Hiyori said, except Hiyori was a tall blonde with a pregnant belly.

Yato turned his face jerkily and sped away, trying to avoid moving too fast, or too fluidly, or looking like he was getting ready for a fight, or making a stupid face, or doing anything of the _very long_ list of things his so-called friends had told him to not do.

His heart was racing nervously, and he did his best to calm himself by taking deep breaths, going through the plan in his mind, and imagining all the bike rides he would take with Yukine and Hiyori as a family afterwards. Right now, Hiyori was being whisked away by the brain bots to her next station, now in her next disguise. Yukine had slipped into the crowd, also wearing a new disguise, walking towards his next position.

Yato was swore mentally, glancing over his shoulder just hard enough to throw off his hood, completely revealing what he hoped was a sufficiently scared expression and a head full of shaggy blonde hair. He reached back to pull his hood up and was relieved when a sudden gust of wind jostled his clothes and he spun around, drawing his sword _just_ fast enough to block Rabo’s sneak attack.

“Nice one,” Kazuma said in his ear.

Yato didn’t take the time to revel in Rabo’s shock, instead ducking to the left and slashing at his side. Thankfully, _thankfully_ blood splattered to the ground, trailing through the air after the tip of Yato’s sword, and as it stained the pavement he knew everything was going to be alright. If he could make Rabo bleed, he could make Rabo die.

“My dad _told_ you I was a better fighter than you,” Yato said, smirking.

“How _dare_ you speak so familiarly of him, human scum!” _Whao_ , Yato thought, _possessive much?_ Rabo’s next strike was aimed at Yato’s side, and he jumped backwards to avoid.

“Best not to block more than one in a row while you’re pretending to be Yukine, you don’t want him getting suspicious,” Kazuma had told him. The next attack came from above, and Yato thought he just about had Rabo’s fighting style all figured out. His attacks were wild and sporadic. He obviously had the technique and training, but his fighting had become erratic as his mind fragmented.

Yato wondered, not for the first time, what had made him like that. Had something happened to him, or had he simply always been this way? They exchanged several more swings and misses before Kazuma called to initiate phase two, and right on time, Yato was just about to give up on the ruse and go for the kill, if Rabo managed to block it then _fine_.

A guitar chord sang through the overcast sky and Rabo stopped what he was doing, that demented glee filling his face and making Yato cringe. Another note rang through the air, this time joined by an arc of ice blue lightning, jumping from cloud to cloud. What Yato knew and Rabo couldn’t see was that it was traveling from brain bot to brain bot.

“God of Calamity!” Rabo called, snatching Yato by the throat, “watch as I free you from this burden and become your super villain partner!”

“Oh, you’re a villain alright,” Yato’s voice rang through the clouds as lightning struck again. He was met by the image of his own eyes, enormous and menacing and flashing in time with the lightning as they glared down on the city. There was a pause in the music where nothing happened, then the guitar kicked back up, and the eyes flashed with every note. “Just not a super one!”

“What’s the difference?” Rabo asked. Yato couldn’t conceal his grin anymore, this was his favorite part. It didn’t matter, though, because Rabo’s eyes were fixed on the sky. The blue eyes slowly faded to red as the drums came in, beating insistently.

“Presentation!”

Hiyori threw her arms wide in her best impression of Yato as she rode a swarm of brain bots up and over the glowing red eyes. She’d made Yato act out the scene multiple times, so she could mimic the flare with which he moved. Kazuma had had to scold the two for descending into giggles and wasting time.

Her billowing black cape and high collar gave her, as Yato, a very impressive outline against the overcast sky. Rabo rocketed into the air, dragging Yato with him. Hiyori winked in sync with the glowing red eyes behind her, then folded her arms across her chest and dropped out of the sky. The lyrics lined up perfectly with Hiyori dropping into a cloud of brain bots and disappearing. Yato had to hand it to her, she was doing great.

“ _Welcome to the jungle, we’ve got fun and games_!”

Rabo halted in shock. The brain bots split into two groups, one swarmed around Rabo and Yato, blocking their vision as the rest escorted Hiyori safely to the ground, where she would click her watch face into place and hurry to her next mark.

“Gotcha,” Yato said, himself again, right as he plunged his sword into Rabo’s chest. He glared straight into Rabo’s eyes as he pushed himself away, rebounding into the air where a pair of brain bots caught him. “I told you, you’re going to die, and it’s going to hurt,” he heard the steel in his own voice as he spoke, and he hoped he looked as terrifying as Yukine told him he did.

“ _I wanna watch you bleed!”_

“You’ll see I’m right once I kill that woman and child.” Yato didn’t reply.

He swung his arms straight above him and slid through the grip of the brain bots and shot a hundred feet down. He landed on the roof of a building and propelled himself back up, cracking the buildings exoskeleton as a shockwave rolled down the sides, shattering windows as it went. Yato rocketed past Rabo, raking his blade up Rabo’s body before he had time to react. He turned sideways as he reached the apex of his flight and began to fall again, preparing for another attack. He spun to give his strike more force, but this time Rabo was prepared and blocked the attack, sending Yato careening away.

He crashed through the window of a high-rise office building to the alarmed cries of the workers and rammed his sword into the floor to slow his backslide. He ground to a halt and leapt through the same window he’d crashed through with so much force it sent papers flying. He met Rabo midair, sword at the ready. They clashed blades again and Yato was once more propelled into an unsuspecting skyscraper, this time colliding with the solid shell. He plunged his sword deep into the cement and hooked his elbow around the hilt, bracing his feet against the wall so he hung hundreds of feet above the ground in a respite of the battle, sizing up his opponent.

Rabo was dripping blood on the street but had yet to land a clean hit on Yato. This wasn’t right.

“What’s going on, why have you stopped fighting?” Kazuma asked.

“You insult me,” Yato growled. “You’re not taking this fight seriously.”

“I couldn’t help but notice that sword on your hip, God of Calamity, it seems I’m not the only one using the power of Takamagahara.” Yato didn’t comment, fixing his cold gaze on Rabo. “I thought I recognized it, it belonged to your father, didn’t it?” Yato couldn’t stop his reaction this time.

“What do you know about my father?” Rabo’s eyes widened as his lips spread into a skeletal grin, Yato imagined himself gouging out those eyes and ripping those thin lips from his hollow face.

“I know everything about you, God of Calamity. Your Father, your son, _your sister_ …”

“What do you know about Mizuchi?” Yato roared, launching himself horizontally at Rabo, ripping his sword free from the wall. He swung viciously and when steel failed to meet flesh he kicked Rabo between the legs. He launched himself away, landing on a squat building so he was standing eye to eye with Rabo, a hundred feet apart.

“I must say, my respect for you only grew when you killed your father. What a brutal move, _beautiful_ ,” he moaned, and Yato’s lips curled in disgust.

“ _What_ ,” he repeated, “ _do you know about my sister?_ ”

“Don’t you see? The dedication I have had to you for our entire lives? I severed your ties with that girl.”

The world tilted, Yato’s knees felt suddenly weak as the wind rushed loudly in his ears. He swayed dangerously close to the edge of the building. Somewhere far away Kazuma was yelling something in his ear piece, but the only thing Yato could hear was Rabo and the wind carrying the laughter of a little girl hidden from him behind a mountain of corpses.

“What,” he croaked, “do you mean?” Rabo’s demented laughter echoed through the buildings around them.

“I killed her.”

Yato’s vision went black, then very, very red.

* * *

 

_“Yato, Yato! You did so good!” Mizuchi cried, runnin_ _g from her hiding spot and splashing through the pool of blood at his feet. She kicked away a severed head like a ball and took his hand. “Father is going to be so proud!” The blood on his hands stained her pale skin as she linked their fingers, and Yato wondered if she were allowed outside during the day if she would get any darker._

_He could see the blood veins in her arms, blue against her pure white. That had always seemed odd to Yato. Blood was red, not blue, and he would know, having seen so, so much of it._

_He didn’t bother trying to explain to her that he didn’t want father to be proud if it meant killing people, and that he didn’t want her to wade through a river of blood to hold his hand. He wanted to run and play with her in the sun, and to introduce her to Kazuma, and to play like normal brothers and sisters do. He’d tried before, but she was too taken by Father, too brainwashed to see, so he merely nodded._

_“Father will be proud,” he said._

_“Maybe he’ll give us a treat!”_

_~*~_

_“Psst, Yato, are you awake?”_

_“Yeah, but be quiet, if Father hears you he’ll be mad! He’ll hit us!”_

_“Not if we’re super quiet,” she whispered. “Look!” She crept to the closet where she snatched up two pillows and stuck them under the blankets, ushering Yato out of bed and to the sliding door. “Come on, let’s go out and play!”_

_“I’m don’t know, Mizuchi, what if Father finds out?”_

_“He won’t! It’ll be okay! I haven’t been outside in ages!”_

_She tugged his hand pleadingly, then gave him the mischievous smile that she knew would get him to do anything. He nodded, and they slid the door open and stepped into the cool night air. They were suddenly overwhelmed with an unfamiliar sense of freedom. They could go anywhere, do anything, and they could do it together._

_~*~_

_“Mizuchi!” Yato said, popping his head out of his massive pile of blankets and beckoning to her. He crawled back in and waited, throwing his arms out proudly when she popped her head in and saw the vaulted ceiling of his blanket fort._

_“Whoa,” she gasped, face filling with wonder._

_What do you think, a pretty awesome fort, right?”_

_“It_ is _awesome!” She said._

_“I made it for us, it’s a castle where everyone is nice, and no one hits you when you’re bad, and you can go outside and play whenever you want!”_

_“That sounds amazing! Do you think there’s a place like that anywhere in the world?”_

_“Of course, there is,” he said boldly, “you’re standing in it! Do you wanna play a game?”_

_“Yeah!”_

_~*~_

_“You promised!” Mizuchi wailed, tears streaming down her cheeks. Yato flinched. She_ never _cried. “You promised we’d be together forever! You left me behind!”_

_“I tried to take you with me, but you wouldn’t come! We could have run away together, and he never would have hit us again! I’m telling you, I’ve been to school, other kids aren’t afraid of their parents, this isn’t how it’s supposed to be!”_

_“This is our home!”_

_“This is hell!” He shouted, losing his temper. “I don’t wanna be afraid anymore, and I don’t wanna get hit anymore! I don’t want to hurt people! I know what Father says but he’s lying! I just wanted us to be together forever and be happy!”_

_~*~_

_“What have you done?” She shrieked, gaping open mouthed at their father’s corpse, in pieces, and the walls painted with his blood._

_He suddenly regretted having lost control, but as it had been happening it had felt so_ good _to take out every bit of pain and frustration he’d had on him; determined to repay all the pain and suffering he had inflicted on Yato and Mizuchi in their entire lifetime. He wasn’t even sure he’d stopped slashing once his father had died, or if he’d stood there hacking at a corpse and screaming like a madman with tears streaming down his face while Mizuchi was out on a grocery run._

_“I freed us,” he said hollowly, staring blankly at the blood covering every surface. “We’re free.”_

_“You killed our father!” She screamed, dropping her groceries. She kicked through the puddles of blood and threw herself at him, punching every part of his body she could reach. He recoiled in shock, hurt even though her punches didn’t hit hard. “You killed him! Why would you do that he loved us? He always forgave you no matter how many times you ran away! Every. Single. Time!”_

_“This isn’t love, Mizuchi!” He shouted, seizing her wrist and pushing back her sleeve to reveal dozens of bruises, all different colors, all left by father. “You don’t do this to the people you love!”_

_“Shut up, shut up, shut UP!” She shrieked, punching and pushing and crying. “Get out, get out, get OUT!” His heart shattered as she fixed him with a look of utter loathing and pain where there had once been love and mischief. “I never want to see you again!”_

_“But I thought… you said… we were supposed to be together forever!”_

_“Why would I ever want to be with someone like you? Get out!”_

_~*~_

_“Hey, Yato,” Father said gently, sliding open the door to his room and peaking in at the tear stained little boy. Yato eyes him suspiciously. He still wasn’t used to this planet, or this man who insisted on being called Father. He wasn’t his father. His father was dead. He missed his parents and he wanted to go home. “I know this must be scary for you, getting used to a brand-new planet all by yourself, so I brought someone for you to meet.”_

_“Who?” Yato asked, unable to tame his curiosity._

_“Your new sister!” Father opened the door slightly wider to reveal a girl about his age who looked just as scared as he did. “You don’t have to be alone now, the two of you are going to be together forever.”_

* * *

 

“We were supposed to be together forever…” he said quietly.

Yato had always assumed that she’d been taken in by social services and placed somewhere, or that maybe they had even found whoever Father had stolen her from and given her back to her real family. He’d always thought she was happy, so happy that she didn’t want to contact him, or to see him, and that she was happy to hate him all these years.

“So, you see,” Rabo said, laughing loudly, unaware of the storm brewing just a hundred feet in front of him, “I’ve always been looking out for your best interests! That girl made you soft, just like that child does!”

Yato’s entire world went from ice cold to burning hot in an instant, and he was no longer fully aware of what he was doing. The sound of Mizuchi’s fearless laughter and his own enraged screaming drowned out all other noise as he threw himself at Rabo, out of control like he hadn’t been since he’d killed his father.

His father’s sword was out, he hadn’t even been aware of drawing it, and he made a monstrous swipe for Rabo’s head from both directions, hoping to cleave his skull into two pieces, but Rabo dropped from the air and cackled.

“Yes, there! Now you see! You are as you should be! Despicable and depraved, a true God of Calamity!”

“Shut up.”

Yato followed Rabo down, propelled by gravity and slashing impatiently at the brain bots that swept forward to catch him. His swords slashed through the air and Rabo blocked them. Suddenly they were baring down on the ground, Yato on top of Rabo, his swords poised for the kill, but then Rabo rolled in the air at the last minute so Yato slammed into the pavement. The road collapsed underneath him, but Yato climbed to his feet, face alight with fire underneath the blood from his new face wound. He spat out a rock and took to the skies again, chasing down Rabo relentlessly. Yato slashed to the left and kicked to the right, to concerned with drawing blood to bother with blocking and dodging.

There were only three things in his world, himself, Rabo, and the ghost of his sister, laughing as they ran, unafraid, through the night. She had done nothing but love him and he had left her there, a sitting duck. They were supposed to be together forever.

* * *

 

“Kazuma this is really bad!” Yukine cried. “I think Yato’s lost control! He told me about his sister, he didn’t even know she was dead! He thought she was alive and happy somewhere this whole time!”

“Has he ever lost control like this before?” Hiyori asked.

“When he killed his father!” Yukine and Kazuma replied together.

“He didn’t stop until he’d hacked his father into pieces, Hiyori,” Kazuma said, sounding grim. “But with Rabo, it might end up with Yato in pieces instead.”

“Not to mention what they’re doing to the city they’re destroying it all!” She added.

“I don’t know if he can hear any of our voices!” Yukine said, ducking as a building collapsed under the pressure of two gods battling on its roof.

“I can stop Yato,” Hiyori said. “Brain bots take me to him!”

“Hiyori, are you nuts? You’ll be killed! If you go up there Rabo will _destroy_ you, and then Yato really _will_ destroy the city, and everyone inside it!”

“He’ll hear me, I’m sure of it, besides, if I die you can still stop him, but if something happens to you there’s nothing that will prevent Yato from decimating the city!”

“Hiyori, you’ll never get close!” Kazuma said.

“I’m asking the two of you to trust me!” There was a heavy silence where both considered it. “Look, he’s taking hits, he’s being sloppy, in this state he’ll kill himself without realizing or caring! Yukine stay in your position, I’m going to try to get him to direct the fight back to you!”

By way of affirmation two brain bots swept down and picked Hiyori up by her underarms. She assumed that Kazuma must have taken control of them because they gave danger a wide berth and seemed to be waiting for an opportunity to drop her in safely, but Yato was fighting like a berserker now, and he wouldn’t stop until he was dead.

“Kazuma the next time Yato is thrown back I want you to drop me in, we won’t get a better opportunity.”

“Alright.” The fight moved to the ground, and the brain bots followed. Yato was thrown so far back he came to rest against the ruined face of Bishamon’s statue, all that remained of the destroyed monument.

“Now, Kazuma!” The brain bots swept down and dropped her into a run. She stumbled and nearly fell but managed to stay upright and sprint to Yato’s side, where she collapsed in front of him and took his face in her hands.

“Stop it, Yato,” she cried. “You need to get control of yourself! You’re going to get yourself killed like this!

“We were supposed to be together forever,” he said, his voice the same ice that had sent fear down her spine, but also full of pain and regret. “He’s going to die.”

“And what about you? I want to be with you longer than this, Yato! I don’t want you to die today!” She was relieved to see some of the light finally returning to his eyes.

“Go away, Hiyori. It’s dangerous here.” _Finally_ , she thought. _He sees me._

“That’s exactly why I’m here, to talk some sense into you.”

“I’m clearer headed than I have been in years.”

“No, you’re not, you’re _angrier_ than you have been in years. I am so, _so_ sorry about your sister, but you can’t lose control because of that right now. There are other people who need you, Yukine, the city, me!” Mentioning Yukine triggered another reaction. He glanced down at her, his face showing something other than rage.

Hiyori glanced over her shoulder at the slowly advancing Rabo, whose long strides were flanked on both sides by large clouds of dust. His head was tilted to the side, his mouth stretched in that demented grin. Hiyori gulped and turned back to Yato.

“Come on, Yato, snap out of it, stick to the plan. Yukine is in position,” she hissed. “Stop running headfirst into this fight or you’ll get yourself killed.”

“He killed my sister,” he said softly.

“I know,” Hiyori replied, voice cracking, “but you can’t get justice for her if you’re dead. Please, _please,_ snap out of it,” she pleaded, hands clutching at his bloody armor. She decided to imagine it was mostly Rabo’s blood, and that Yato was fine. Just fine.

His eyes moved to her, then to Rabo, then back to her.

“Hiyori you need to get out of here,” he got to his feet and she followed suit, still positioning herself between Yato and Rabo. “Get back to your mark,” he said, giving her a meaningful look. She sighed, relieved, glad to see Yato behind those eyes, not just a mask of malice and ill intent.

“Okay,” she said, throwing her arms around him. He returned her hug, the hilts of his swords digging into her back. “Hey Yato? Let’s hurry and go home, okay?” Yato nodded.

“Yeah.”

He took two steps forward and placed himself between Rabo and Hiyori. Two brain bots picked her up and lifted her in the air, giving her a bird’s eye view of the scene about to unfold.

Yato and Rabo stood fifty feet apart, separated by rubble and cracked pavement. Wind lifted their clothes and jostled their hair, carrying clouds of dust between them. Silence reigned as they stared each other down, two wolves fighting for dominance. Eyes of frozen hate met eyes of burning blood. Clouds covered the sun, washing out the scene so they both stood in fields of gray; the only color the life spilling from their veins.

The cool wind had nothing to do with the chill that cut into Hiyori’s core. The atmosphere was heavy, like the earth itself was holding its breath. As she was carried away she felt the electricity crackling through the air as the sky readied itself to split open. Yato flicked his wrist so his sword sliced through the air in a circle.

Thunder roared.


	13. Thunder Roared

_Thunder Roared._

Rabo’s muscles tensed, his eyes widened, and Yato leapt into action. He was able to predict and react to Rabo’s movements, but there was no strategy for taking that many heavy hits all at once. Every impact jarred his wounds and rattled his bones.

Before he’d lost control, he’d dodged the worst of it, but he hadn’t been present enough in his greif to bother with that sort of strategy, he’d only attacked. He had taken a lot of damage, and every movement was revealing new injuries to him. Though he had resisted when Yukine told him to take his father’s sword, he was now glad to have it. He would have to remember to thank Yukine for the tough love.

He swung his left sword, his father’s, high, and his right sword low, so Rabo would only be able to use his sword to block one of the hits. Steal flashed, and he stopped the attack that would have severed his head, but Yato’s other sword bit into his hip. He felt the satisfying give of flesh splitting around metal and grinned. The wound wasn’t deep, but it was a start.

Lightning struck as Yato spun away, dragging his blade across as much of Rabo’s body as he could, satisfied when blood spilled from the wound and splattered to the dusty ground. Yato leapt back onto a fallen wall and propelled himself over Rabo’s head. Steal flashed in the half light as Yato swung his swords in an arc to Rabo, who shot into the air to avoid the attack. He moved too slow and Yato’s sword caught his legs. Blood spurted from the wounds and fell directly into Yato’s eyes. He staggered back, temporarily blinded.

Tearing pain exploded in his side and he stumbled back, unseeing, cursing as he wiped his eyes. His foot caught on a piece of rubble and he crashed to the ground, colliding with several large pieces of rock that would no doubt leave bruises in the morning. He crawled away blindly, still wiping at his eyes. His back collided with something smooth and hard and he managed to open his eyes to see what was in front of him at last.

Thunder roared.

Rabo was bearing down on him, sword raised high above his head. The lightning lit his eyes like blood spilled under a full moon, his insanity clouding the air around him. Yato scrambled out of the way, far from the graceful embodiment of fear and torment he’d once been. Rabo’s sword embedded in the wall right where Yato’s head had been, and he wondered briefly what had happened to wanting to save him from himself, because that looked an awful lot like a killing blow.

Yato’s breath was ragged, painful, and rattling. There was probably blood in his lungs, but he didn’t know what to do about that, other than to cough, and the very idea pained the dozen injuries he had acquired during this fight, not to mention the barely sealed gash he’d sustained during their first encounter.

Yato’s armor hung off him where it had been ripped and sliced, revealing old injuries and leaving him open to new ones. It would take months to repair it all.

He could hear Kazuma telling Yukine to stay on his mark and wait for Yato to get Rabo into position, and Yato wondered if he’d be able to do it.

Lightning lit the scene again, bringing everything into stark relief, and Yato could better see the dark stains of red on Rabo’s clothes. _At least he’s not unscathed,_ Yato thought bitterly, _even if he is better off than me._

As Rabo pried his sword from the wall while Yato did a quick inventory of his injuries. There was a shallow cut on his cheek he didn’t remember getting, a gash across his forehead, aches and bruises everywhere, the slash in his side Rabo had managed while Yato was blinded, and the gash in his stomach that was feeling like it might split back open at any second. _Spectacular,_ Yato thought. _I’ll have to fight with one hand and hold my intestines with the other. That’ll make it to the gag reels for sure._ He knew that without his armor, though, he’d be in much worse shape, it had absorbed several wounds that could have killed him otherwise. Rabo’s sword slid free of the wall and he spun to face Yato, teeth bared in a deadly grin.

“Do you ever stop smiling?” Yato asked, annoyed. “You can’t possibly be having that much fun, no one likes fighting that much.”

“We are Yomi! We live and die on the battlefield!”

“Yeah, I don’t know about you, but I don’t remember very much about home at all. I don’t really fancy the whole ‘live and die by the blade’ thing either. I personally would prefer to live and die by something much more fun, like puppies, or ice cream, or Rihanna.” Rabo looked disgusted, and Yato grinned mockingly. “Not a fan of Rihanna? How about Beyoncé? Have you listened to Lemonade yet? I cried.” Through his earpiece he heard Yukine.

“He really did, it was weird.” The muffled sounds of Hiyori and Kazuma laughing lifted Yato’s spirit, and his smile became genuine. Rabo’s nostrils flared.

“As I thought, the humans have made you forget your origins! I will remind you where you came from!”

Rabo leapt into the air and flew in the same direction Hiyori had gone. Yato swallowed his rising panic, reminding himself that if Rabo got to his position on his own it was all the better for them. Yato sprinted after him on the ground and got an idea when he tripped and nearly fell over a large pile of rubble. He shoved the tip of his sword into the ground and used it to toss a rock the size of a softball into the air. He spun and kicked it with all his might. It shot through the air and shattered against the back of Rabo’s head.

“I know perfectly well where I come from, who I am, and what I’ve done. You and I are the last of our kind. The Yomi Clan is no more. Quit bringing up stuff from the past that doesn’t matter anymore!”

“The Yomi will never die! It lives on in you and I!”

“The Clan of Assassin’s will perish when I wash these streets with your blood. There may be other warrior races out there, but the Yomi will fade from memory until we are nothing more than a ghost story. The age of the Yomi is over, and in a few minutes, your life will be too.” Rabo laughed cruelly.

“You have proven yourself incapable of killing me, look at the state of you. You’re fully outfitted in Yomi armor and still covered in your own blood.” He was right and Yato knew it. He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, then sheathed his sword. “What’s this, giving up already? Shall you allow me to cut down those infernal humans now?”

Yato tuned him out. He knew what he had to do. In his heart he knew Rabo was right about at least one thing, Yukine and Hiyori made him soft. He didn’t think that that was a bad thing, just not what he needed right now. Now he needed to be made of steel and razor sharp. He needed to fight Rabo as the God of Calamity with no one to love and nothing to lose. He took a long, slow breath and reached into the deepest parts of his bloodstained soul.

 

Yato opened his eyes slowly, turning his gaze upwards. He recoiled slightly at the chill rolling off the God of Calamity. In the space of a few heartbeats Yato had become an entirely different person. The fatigue had melted from his shoulders into something fluid and deadly, his face stilled into flat analysis. The energy around him had stopped crackling and started roaring.

Pinprick pupils fixed directly on Rabo, sending a chill up his spine. He didn’t draw his sword, didn’t move, didn’t blink, but Rabo knew. _This_ was the God of Calamity that he’d been longing to see all this time. This was the one he’d wanted to serve, the pillar of fear and disaster that drank the light from the air around him, leaving only darkness.

A single drop of water fell from the sky, passing Rabo’s face and continuing past his feet. His eyes followed it as it reached Yato’s head, gliding past his steely eyes and splattering on the pavement. At that moment Yato leapt into action, springing into the air and striking Rabo with a kick so hard it sent him careening through the air and crashing into a stop sign. Right into position.

Yato approached Rabo slowly, step by step, as he painstakingly disentangled himself from the twisted metal. He was having trouble because his eyes kept drifting back to the figure approaching him, slowly, so slowly. Not even thunder rumbled now, the sky was holding its breath, afraid to disturb the silence. Rabo had the distinct impression that if Yato were to turn his blades to the heavens, even the sky would fall, and Earth would have only the vast nothingness of space left.

 _What must it be like to be that powerful? To contain that much energy and to bend it to your will?_ Rabo wondered _._ Objectively anyone might mistake Rabo for the most powerful being on Earth, but he knew they were wrong. Even the wind was still when the true God of Calamity reared his wild head.

Yato was still fixing him with that piercing look. It was not quite a glare, though it filled Rabo with a cold unlike any he had ever known. How long had he been standing there, only half freed from this stop sign? How long had Yato been taking those agonizingly slow steps toward him, claiming every inch of pavement as his own? How was Yato two feet shorter, yet still somehow looking down his nose?

The world was a timeless loop of nothing as he gazed into those beautiful eyes, transfixed.

As Rabo watched Yato reached down and drew his father’s sword, steadily, eyes never wavering from Rabo. When he spoke, his words were barely more than a whisper, though they carried the weight of centuries with them.

“So, are you done warming up?”

“Yes.”

Rabo ripped himself free and launched at Yato, using his full power. Lightning flashed, no thunder to announce it, and suddenly Yato had a sword in both hands, stopping Rabo’s attack mid swing. The pavement exploded beneath him, launching rocks and pebbles into the air, but Yato stood firm, that gaze still fixed on Rabo.

A concussive force slammed into Rabo’s chest and sent him flying backwards through a building, and Yato signaled for his partners to stay where they were. He wasn’t finished playing with his food yet. Without pause Rabo shot out of the dark for Yato, who, lightning fast, crouched low and swung his blades high. Rabo’s momentum did most of the work, tearing his chest wide open and showering Yato with blood. It soaked his head and trickled through his hair, creeping towards his face.

Rabo tumbled through the air, landing on the road and rolling, crashing into a parked car. It folded around him like an envelope. Yato stood and turned, feeling blood trickle down his spine roll down his cheek. Rabo broke free of the car.

Thunder roared.

He was suddenly in front of Yato again. They were face to face, Rabo bearing down on Yato, gleaming red focused on glowing blue. Yato nodded, once, and in a few moments Rabo found out why. There was a stabbing pain in his side as the child plunged a large gun into one of Rabo’s preexistent wounds, the pointed tip squelching into the exposed flesh. Yukine looked Rabo in the eyes, then pulled the trigger.

Something horrible happened to Rabo when the gun went off, except it fired in reverse, seeming to pull something vital _out_ of him rather than shooting something detrimental _in._ It felt like broken razors were being dragged down his skin all in one direction, like they were being sucked towards the tip of that gun as something golden filled it. _My power_ , he realized through the haze of pain, _they’re taking it._ He screamed in agony, the process taking an eternity, until it was over, and he was left feeling slightly empty.

Rabo staggered back, thrown off balance as he had been when he’d initially been struck by the miracle bullet that had given him the power of Metro Woman. Yato swung his sword, gouging a canyon out of his chest, not flinching when he was sprayed. Yukine shouted in protest, throwing up his arm to protect his face as the red of Rabo’s blood stained his pure white armor.

Yato swung for him slowly and deliberately and Rabo blocked it clumsily, knowing the end was nigh. Yato attacked him lazily, with half the power he’d been using previously, and still each impact threw Rabo back several feet. He was unsteady on his feet, one good hit away from being killed.

A kick flattened Rabo onto the pavement and left him gazing up at the sky and its roiling clouds. _The heavens are in disarray_ , he thought. Yato’s face appeared above him, somehow his lack of expression crueller than any glare he could manage. He flicked his wrist and a wound sighed open on Rabo’s collar bone, a stream of blood flowing away from his shoulder and soaking into his hair. Rabo coughed wetly, feeling blood trickle from the corner of his mouth.

“You really are on another level when you’re yourself.”

“I’m an assassin.”

“As am I.”

“No. You’re a worm.”

Yato looked down at the man beneath his feet who was so obsessed with an ideal he didn’t understand and a planet he didn’t remember. He didn’t deserve to die by the steal of Yomi. He dropped his blade and wrapped both his hands around the hilt of his father’s sword. He swung the sword high, then plunged it down.

Thunder roared.

He rammed the sword into Rabo’s left eye, the force of the blow so strong that his blade sank into the pavement below Rabo’s head, dragging the exhausted Yato down with it so he landed on one knee. The blade snapped just below the hilt, and with it Yato felt something inside himself sever and fade away. The sky opened, and rain began to pour, washing the blood from Rabo’s face, swirling on the ground and mixing together like two seas meeting in the middle.

Yato knelt, head down, surrounded by the silent city. Yukine looked on with apprehension, wanting to go to him but knowing it would be wrong to interrupt. Whatever change that was overcoming Yato was his own; something he had to understand for himself. In his hand he held the broken connection to his past, and all around him were doors to a new future.  

Slowly Yato stood, the hilt of his father’s sword slipping from his limp fingers as the rain soaked his clothes. He was free. He lifted his face to the sky and allowed the rain to wash away his sins.

Thunder roared.


	14. All's Well That Ends Well

It had been Kazuma and Hiyori’s plan, apparently. They had cooked it up together while he’d been unconscious. Bishamon had woken up, finally, too little too late to be of any use, and told Kazuma of a dream she’d had that hadn’t felt like a dream at all. In it Kazuma was telling the story of how he’d burnt down the school and Yato had taken the blame to protect him all these years. Kazuma had confessed everything then, not that there had been much left to confess after that, she’d obviously been partway conscious when Hiyori bullied Kazuma into telling the story, and she knew everything now. Bishamon had agreed not to kill Yato on sight.

That had given Kazuma and Hiyori the brilliant idea to lock the two of them in a room together while they were both too injured to move and force them to reach some sort of cease fire. It was _not_ going well. She’d been furious when Yukine and Kazuma carried Yato in on a stretcher and placed him on the twin bed next to her own. Kazuma was conveniently and mysteriously deaf while Bishamon ordered him to dump Yato on the street.

“It’s better this way,” Hiyori said gently. “If we’re all together we can understand each other better. Just think about all the harm a misunderstanding did before!”

Yato was exactly as angry as Bishamon when he woke up and saw her across the room, glaring at him. He’d have got up and left if he’d been able to move, and therein lied the brilliance of the plan. _Both_ of them were incapacitated, so neither could harm the other, and neither could flee. Yato thought it was what being held captive in a group therapy session must be like, and he was _not_ pleased.

“How did you even manage to get beaten up so badly by a deranged lunatic like Rabo?”

“He had the powers of you and I combined, and I _still_ killed him, so I think that makes me the strongest person on the planet!”

“Yeah right,” Bishamon scoffed. “I’ve beaten you plenty of times!”

“That was before I knew all I needed to beat you was a sock full of pennies!”

“For the last time, pennies are made with zinc at their core!”

“Why do you know that? Maybe if you spent less time thinking about the insides of small change and more about fighting I wouldn’t have been able to put you in that bed!”

Kazuma walked between them, chuckling tolerantly as he checked their IV bags. He might have been concerned if either of them was capable of sitting up on their own.

“That’s about the only way you _can_ get a woman in bed!” Kazuma snorted so violently he dropped the thermometer he was holding and had to brace his hand against the wall.

“I _have_ a girlfriend! She’s on TV!” Yato replied.

“Oh yeah? The anime with your ‘waifu’ hasn’t been canceled yet?”

“Hiyori is a real person!” Bishmon’s jaw dropped.

“You’re dating _Hiyori_? Doesn’t she have _standards?_ ” Yato looked affronted.

“HEY! I saved the city!”

“Saving the city doesn’t count if you’re the one who nearly destroyed it!”

“Well you didn’t do either of those things!”

“Alright, alright,” Kazuma said, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. “Speaking of Hiyori, she’s about to go on, so let’s be quiet and listen to her.”

“Yeah, let’s be quiet and listen to my _girlfriend._ ” All eyes focused on the TV screen where Hiyori appeared, looking slightly amused.

“Hello, this is Hiyori Iki reporting to you live for the first time since the epic showdown between two superhuman beings that took down half the city, our broadcasting building with it.” Yato winced. Oops.

“Our temporary broadcasting equipment was provided by the same man who saved us, the man who risked life and limb to protect us from the person who called himself the God of Chaos, who certainly lived up to his namesake. We received footage of the fights from an anonymous source, and though most of them are too graphic to show on television, I think it’s important for you all see what we _can_ show to grasp what went down. I still have to warn you; this footage is not suitable for all viewers.”

“What’s she doing?” Yato muttered. Kazuma shushed him.

The screen switched to an image of Yato and Rabo staring each other down, then Yato leapt into the sky and sliced a long gouge into Rabo’s chest. The scene switched before blood sprayed into the air. Rabo stayed nearly stationary while Yato danced around him, bouncing from building to building and flitting through the air like a hummingbird. Hiyori’s voice resumed over the soundless clip.

“That’s right viewers, you are not mistaken. That is the God of Calamity, otherwise known as Megamind, fighting on behalf of Metro City. I was there that day viewers, and I can attest that he fought with bravery and integrity. He no longer brings only calamity and pain but is now our salvation.” The screen cut back to an image of her earnest face, looking directly into the camera, except Yato knew she wasn’t looking at the camera. She was looking at him. His breath hitched. Kazuma smiled at him while Bishamon made an unbelieving sound.

“So, I propose to you, dear viewers. That we change his name. No longer will he be called ‘Megamind’ or ‘God of Calamity.’ Today we will give him a title he has earned as Metro City’s new hero. God of Fortune.” A single sob ripped from his chest, unbidden, and Kazuma reached over and placed a hand on his arm.

_God of Fortune? Me? How can I be? All I do is cause disaster. How could anyone ever call me that when I’ve killed so many?_

Hiyori’s voice was so sure, however, so sure that it made him want to be sure as well. She had declared him a hero to the entire city, and not all of them would believe her, but some would, surely some would. His throat closed around his tears, they spilled silently down his cheeks. Bishamon made a disgusted sound, but he ignored her.

“Not only did he fight for our safety and freedom, but he has been sending his brain bots to help rebuild the city while he recuperates from the grievous injuries he sustained during the fight.” He hadn’t. He hadn’t been awake for long enough. “His son Yukine has been working as liaison, coordinating the rebuilding efforts and keeping us informed on his father’s condition.”

“What is she doing?” Yato cried, “If they know I have a son they’ll never stop coming after him!”

“In fact, he’s here right now to give us the latest.”

“No!” Yato cried, throwing off his blankets and attempting to sit up, meaning to march down to that plaza and put an end to this himself. He had to stop this stupid stunt before Yukine showed his face to the world and slapped a big red target on his back. Kazuma forced him back down, telling him to be quiet as Yukine walked on screen.

“Hi,” Yukine said awkwardly, glancing at Hiyori, who nodded encouragingly. He gulped, then took her microphone. “My dad is out of critical condition, and we think he’s going to make a full recovery.”

“How is your dad right now?” Hiyori pressed.

“Probably really mad at me for doing this.” Hiyori chuckled.

“Other than that.”

“He’s alright, he doesn’t like lying in bed doing nothing, he’s a horrible patient. I feel bad for the person I left him with, they’re probably is having to wrestle with him just to keep him in bed right now,” Hiyori gave him a knowing look while Yato stopped struggling, annoyed that Yukine had guessed so well.

“Yukine, since I have you here, can I ask what sort of father the God of Fortune is?”

“The good kind, but he’s also kind of annoying. He’s so overprotective, he won’t like that I’ve let the whole world know who I am.”

“That’s right!” Yato shouted. “You’re grounded!” He was too angry even to cry that Yukine had said he was a good dad.

“But I have something else to say, if that’s alright?” He looked at Hiyori, who was slightly surprised, obviously he hadn’t run this by her first.

“My dad is my hero, and I’m really proud of him, and I think that if all of you gave him a chance that you’d see he is going to be a really good hero.” Hiyori smiled softly and ruffled Yukine’s hair affectionately. He swatted her away, looking harried, and handed back the microphone. Yato was crying again, to no one’s surprise.

“Repairs on the city buildings destroyed during the battle are now underway, aided by the resources of the God of Fortune. Most of the streets have been reopened as his brain bots have cleared away the rubble, and repairs on those streets too damaged to be usable are expected to begin tomorrow or the next day. Thank you, this has been Hiyori Iki bringing you the latest news about the city’s repairs.”

“Where is Yukine?” Yato asked, between sniffs, the anger in his voice diminished by the way it trembled. “He’s grounded. He’s grounded forever and he’s never leaving the house again. Ever. Except for school. And Hiyori is grounded too. How dare she put him in danger like that?”

“Don’t be angry, he was just trying to help. He practically insisted, and Hiyori and I agreed.”

“I don’t care! He’s my son and I decide what’s best for him! You shouldn’t have gone behind my back and done something you know I wouldn’t approve of!”

“I don’t believe it,” Bishamon muttered, “he actually sounds like a real parent.”

“Of course, I’m a real parent, Yukine is a real boy!”

“We _all_ thought that making Yukine your public face during this whole reconstruction phase and painting you as a sympathetic single dad would help heal your reputation.”

“Where is Yukine? I want him back here _right now_!”

“He’s stopping by the grocery store to get antiseptic, bandages, and groceries. He’ll be back soon.” Yato huffed, turning his head away from Kazuma to stare angrily at the wall.

“You have to let him make his own decisions,” Bishamon said, surprising everyone. “He’s a tough kid, and he loves you. You should be thanking him, he just did you a huge favor.”

* * *

 

An hour later the door to the bedroom opened and Yukine walked in, arms laden with bandages.

“I think I bought too much,” He said, but was drowned out by Yato’s cry of outrage.

“Yukine!” He shouted, trying to sit up again and regretting it.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m grounded for the rest of my life or whatever. I get it, you’re pissed about the interview.”

“No, you don’t get it!” Yato scolded. “Now that people know you’re out there it’s only a matter of time before-”

“Before the entire world closes in on my location and kills me to punish you for your sins.”

“What if they take you away from me?” Yato said, voice pitching higher with fear.

“Not possible,” Yukine said darkly, his expression reminding Yato of when he’d threatened the nurse. _Yukine can be scary too._ “Besides, I already filed for a legal adoption, when you’re feeling well enough we can go sign the papers.” Yato was left momentarily speechless.

“What have you done to this kid to make him so willing to be near you?” Bishamon asked, watching the exchange with some trepidation.

“Being a great dad!” Yukine snapped, glaring so fiercely at Bishamon that she didn’t challenge him. Yato, on the other hand, was getting rather misty eyed. Yukine groaned.

“Ugh, don’t you _dare_ cry, you big cry baby!”

“But you’re such a good boy!”

“Gross. Shut up and let me change your bandages,” Yukine huffed, sitting down on the bed next to him and tugging the covers down to reveal Yato’s torso.

He produced some trauma shears and began carefully cutting away the dirty bandages. A few minutes later Hiyori stepped into the room, greeting Bishamon and Kazuma pleasantly before walking to Yato’s bedside and kissing him on the forehead, ignoring his angry glare.

“I’m glad you’re finally awake,” she said, taking his hand. “You were out for three days.”

“Really? Kazuma didn’t tell me. Also, you’re grounded.” She ignored that too.

“Oops,” Kazuma said idly, tending to Bishamon’s wound.

“Yeah, I was starting to worry. Bishamon woke up right after the fight, we filled her in on everything.”

“She’s been being mean to me!” Yato said. Hiyori rolled her eyes.

“I’m sure _you_ were being perfectly civil,” she said sarcastically.

“They’ve been arguing non-stop. I feel like I’m ten again. If either of them could actually move one of them would probably be dead,” Kazuma said.

“Not me!” Yato and Bishamon replied together, then scowled. Hiyori giggled.

“You two should try harder to get along,” Hiyori said. “For me and Kazuma’s sake, we love both of you, and we don’t want to see the people we love fight!”

“And I don’t want my only son to be a publicly known target for my enemies, but we can’t always get what we want!”

“It was what’s best, Yato!”

“It wasn’t your decision!”

“If Hiyori hadn’t helped me I would have done it on my own,” Yukine snapped. “We’re all trying so hard to protect you and help you, but you have to let us!” Yato didn’t have a response for that, so he stayed silent. His stomach growled loudly.

“Hiyori, can you do this? I’ll go make him some food.” She nodded and moved to Yukine’s seat, and Yato found himself blushing slightly, noticing for the first time his bare chest, and her warm fingers brushing lightly against his skin.

She was a lot better than Yukine had been when he first started taking care of Yato, but then he remembered her father was a doctor, so she had probably learned from him. It suited Yato just as well, he liked having Hiyori take care of him. Despite his lingering frustration he found his fears abating in the sense of safety that she radiated. Hiyori had just finished and tied off his bandages when Yukine entered the room carrying two plates.

“I brought feel better food!” Yukine said, grinning. He had a plate in each hand with a sandwich, a large pile of potato chips, and some fun sized candy bars. Kazuma eyed the food disapprovingly.

“They really should be eating healthier food.”

“Shut up, Kazuma,” Yato said, taking his plate from Yukine.

“Yeah, shut up,” Bishamon said, taking the other plate and thanking Yukine. Yukine stole one of Yato’s chips and helped him sit up, then reclined next to him.

“You know,” Yato said, side eye-ing Yukine mischievously. “If we’re filing for a legal adoption, and it’s only been three days, you can still register for the new semester at school.” Yukine gaped at him, aghast, then rolled over and screamed into Yato’s pillow. Yato chuckled.

“You’ll like it! It’s all coloring and playing games!” Yato said and was surprised when everyone gaped at him.

“You only think that because you dropped out in middle school!” Yukine said. “Are you sure you don’t wanna keep homeschooling me? I mean now the world knows you have a son it might be safer…”

“Nice try, Yukine,” Yato said sternly. “You’re going to school, and you’re going to make friends, and you’re going to like it.”

“Debatable.”

“Really Yukine, school isn’t that bad,” Kazuma said. Yukine grumbled into Yato’s pillow, and Yato patted his head comfortingly.

“They’ll all love you, you’ll see.”

“What school were you thinking of sending him too?” Kazuma asked.

“I’d _like_ to do one with a lot of security, but those cost money…”

“You get a lot of free stuff as protector of Metro City,” Bishamon said. “They probably won’t charge Yukine admission, and if they do you could probably get him a scholarship, considering your zero-dollar annual income.”

“Since he doesn’t have formal education from the last two years, he’ll probably have to take an entrance exam, I could help him study,” Hiyori offered.

“Thank you, Hiyori!” Yato said. “Yukine, thank Hiyori!” Yukine grumbled something that might have been the words “thank you, Hiyori.” He was quiet for a few moments, before a loud outburst startled Yukine so badly he fell into the floor. “Oh no!”

“What?” Yukine asked, pushing himself off the ground and climbing back onto the bed.

“Is our apartment still standing?” Yukine nodded.

“You didn’t get near that part of town while you were fighting Rabo.”

“That’s good.”

“You did destroy the office building my work broadcast out of, but that's alright, because I hated it anyway. Maybe this time we’ll get a cappuccino machine!” Yato started to smile, then faltered. Yukine mentioning Rabo’s name had reminded him of the revelation he’d had during the fight.

“M-Mizuchi,” he said, gulping hard. “Um…did…” He wasn’t sure how to phrase the question, without saying _did they ever find her body._ Nevertheless, everyone in the room seemed to have understood the end of the question, and was looking at him with pity and sorrow, everyone except Bishamon.

“Who is Mizuchi?”

“My younger sister,” Yato replied mechanically. “I just found out, Rabo said that he, um-” Yukine and Hiyori each took one of his hands, and he squeezed them in reply. “Rabo told me he killed her. Did they- does anyone know-”

“I checked with the coroner's office while you were unconscious, and it’s their procedure to cremate any unclaimed bodies after the closing of the investigation. They keep the ashes, just in case any family ever shows up to claim them, but since I’m not a relative and I can’t identify a photograph I couldn’t see if they still had hers.”

“You might be able to find her birth family and give them some closure,” Hiyori suggested gently. Yato nodded, that was a good idea. He had no idea how his father had obtained Mizuchi, but he was certain he hadn’t done it legally.

“They might not be alive, Father didn’t like loose ends.”

Hiyori lifted Yato’s hand and kissed his knuckles, then piled onto the bed with Yato and Yukine, stealing one of his candy bars. They were squashed in pretty closely, but Yato lifted his arms with some difficulty and wrapped one around each of them, he smiled happily, despite his grief.

 _How did I get such a great family?_ He wondered.

“Hey, I have an idea!” Yukine said. “You should start sewing and knitting for money! People would probably pay a lot for stuff made by the city’s hero!”

“You can sew?” Bishamon asked incredulously. Yato nodded proudly, grinning at Yukine.

“I’m a man of untold mysteries!”

* * *

 

Yato’s hands were shaking nervously as he stood behind the curtain before his dramatic entrance to the opening of the new Metro Woman and God of Fortune museum. Hiyori insisted that they keep the dedication to Metro Woman and all her service to the city and had seen to the installation of an _accurate_ history of the two of them. Yato had tried to convince her to leave out the school fire, but she refused because Kazuma had wanted it, as a way to make up for being too scared too for all those years.

Yukine was waiting in the crowd with a friend from school, Suzuha. He was going to join Yato on stage with Hiyori after his entrance. Whether he liked it or not, Yukine was part of his public face now. It was even official, the adoption had went through, and Yato hadn’t expected it to be such a relief, but he didn’t have to worry about Yukine being taken away any more.

Hiyori whispered to him that it was time, and he nodded, and prepared to break through the wall that had been prepared for him.

“Now introducing the God of Fortune, protector of Metro City!” Yato burst through the wall and waved at the cheering crowd as it was wheeled away. Hiyori joined him and took his hand on one side while Yukine ducked under his arm on the other, looking vaguely shy. Hiyori lifted her mic to her lips.

“Welcome citizens of Metro City to the rededication of the new and improved Metro Woman and God of Fortune museum! All donations made inside, as well as all the profits from merchandise sold here will be given to those who lost everything in the Incident!” The crowd cheered. This had been one thing everyone agreed on. It had only been a month since Yato’s fight with Rabo, and a lot of people were still hurting. “We hope you enjoy this attraction! Now, if you would please-” she gestured for Yato to cut the blue ribbon and he obliged, drawing his sword for the first time in a month.

When he turned around his eyes landed on a man with glasses, and a woman whose long blonde hair was tucked out of sight to avoid notice. Kazuma beamed up at Yato proudly, and even Bishamon held a begrudging smile. Kazuma mouthed something at Yato that made him beam in return.

_I always knew you could do it._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW! I cannot believe Megamind is over. I've only been working on it for a relatively short amount of time and already it feels like a regular part of my life. I don't know what I'm going to do now.   
> That's a fucking lie, I know exactly what I'm going to do: Tomorrow I'm posting an unrelated Noragami one-shot called opium, also for the Noragami big bang, and after that I have about five fics to work on. Two are for Noragami, A Kungfu Panda au (dark!version ofc, it's my only setting.) and a How to Train Your Dragon AU. For Fairy Tail I have two that are an original AU and about two crackships. And one for Miraculous Ladybug! I hope I'll be able to finish them all. XD.   
> Thank you so much to everyone who commented, left kudos, and to whoever my mystery anon on tumblr was, you all meant so much to me!! <3


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